Uncharming & The Prince
by Veritable Old Lady Crow
Summary: Part [ONE] in the Uncharming & the Prince Series, starting* with the teenage years of our SOA favorites Tara Knowles, Jackson Teller, Donna & Opie Winston, with a familiar name or two along the way. No insta-love
1. Chapter 1

**A-NOTE: **

**New Readers, welcome. **Hope you enjoy.

My version of **Jax** & **Tara**...its kind of a **love** you, **hate** you, **love** to **hate** you, hate that** i love you** Angsty-**lusty**-lovey-make-a-me-**crazy** rollercoaster ride so get **READY**. And don't expect an **INSTANT** happily ever after. Please* **DO** expect one...Just not an insta-love one (the term_ "slow burn"_ comes to mind...well slow_ish_)

**|REVIEW| &&&** hit the** |FOLLOW|.** The feedback i get is the fuel that keeps me writing & if you like the story that's what you want...right? =)**  
**

- **Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.**

* * *

"_Don't forget my smokes!_"

Tara Knowles couldn't believe her father actually had the nerve to remind her to buy him cigarettes after the migraine he'd given her last night. Part of her was surprised he was even conscious after the bender he'd went on this past week.

Tara quickly snatched up the keys to the Cutlass the second her father started rambling off a list of things _she _needed to buy from the store like she was his fuckin housekeeper. Sad as it was she was more of a round the clock _nanny_. Still, that didn't mean she'd let him dictate how she took care of business. _She _was the only one doing anything where the Knowles residence was concerned.

_She _cooked.

_She _cleaned.

_She _made sure he didn't drown in his own vomit every night.

When her immune system failed her _she _took _herself_ to the doctor.

_She _remembered to pay all the bills _and_ take his precious car for a tune up.

Arthur Knowles rarely sobered up long enough to complete his shift. And to Tara's growing disgust and embarrassment the fact that he even kept his job at all had nothing to do with upper management being in the dark about his work ethic or lack thereof. As it turned out the Oswald's weren't just good businesspeople. They were also very _charitable_. And their charity of choice was the Knowles family. Tara knew the truth even if he would never cop to it. Elliot Oswald pitied her. He felt sorry for the little girl who lost her mother to Cancer and her father to the bottle. And Tara hated being anyone's charity case.

But that didn't stop her from taking the much needed help.

The Oswald generosity came in handy more often than she wanted to admit. It was the reason she was currently walking through _Monroe Market_'s parking lot on a late Saturday morning.

Today was day one of her escape plan.

She need to get serious about her savings account if she had even a prayer of getting the hell out of _Charming_, the most deceptively named California town in existence.

A light beep sounded from above the double doors as they slid open. Tara bypassed the row of checkout lines at the front of the store, heading towards the back where the employee office was located. She didn't bother tapping on the door. She pushed it open, dropping her bag on the floor in front of the one rusty locker that was still available. Having a drunk father who liked to yell and throw things meant studying or keeping sane required a certain level of tolerance for noise. So normally it was easy for Tara to block out her surroundings completely.

But the redhead squawking away on the phone at the desk in the corner was impossible to ignore.

"_It's alright, honey….trust me_! You won't be the first townie to have a baby before tying the knot. It'll be fine. She'll come around…baby names?" Tara briefly turned to glance at the loudmouthed woman who was absently twirling the curly phone cord around her finger. Whatever paperwork on the desk clearly wasn't as important as her gab-session.

"Have you found if it's a girl or a boy?" the young woman cawed. Tara's eyes flitted down to the shiny, little rectangle latched to the top of her way too-tight V-neck sweater. It was a silver employee tag that read: Karen Monroe, Head Manager.

"You're_ right_ I'd want to be surprised too," Karen continued. "…but wait! What about _Tristan_? That could work for a girl or a boy…it is not! ...well _I_ like it….maybe I will! Better yet I am. Tristan is officially off limits, you hear me Carlie? That's gonna be _my_ future child's name."

Tara rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of the loud phone conversation behind her. She turned away from the woman who couldn't have been older than twenty-five. As she pulled her long, chocolate brown hair up into a messy, high ponytail she wondered if Karen _or _pregnant Carlie even knew what it meant to take care of another person. At least her father could change himself when he pissed his pants. With a baby you had to do every damn thing.

"Oh trust me, honey we are a longgg ways from _that_! I want to finish my degree. And Elliot is _just_ getting started with the family business…wait hold up a second."

Tara heard the light tap of the phone's receiver as Karen sat it down on top of the stack of papers covering the corner desk. She also sensed it when Karen walked up behind her. Her silhouette reflected against the locker just as Tara slammed it shut, her bag and sweater tucked away inside of it. A pointy fingernail tapped lightly against her shoulder.

"_Excuse me,_" Karen said above Tara's ear. "Can I help you with something?"

Tara turned around to face her. Karen looked her up and down, disapproval all over her face as Tara said, "I work here now."

Karen's eyes zeroed in on the freshly engraved employee tag Tara had latched to the top of her shirt. "Who hired you?" Karen asked, her nose wrinkling. _Wow_, Tara thought. _And they say _I'm _stuck up._

"Elliot… ... he said he spoke to your mother about giving me a part-time job here," Tara explained. She jutted her chin up refusing to show her humiliation at the admission. "She agreed to let me work here three weekdays after school and alternate weekends…she didn't tell you?"

"_Elliot_ got you a job here?" Karen somehow managed to look ten times more evil when she posed the question. Before Tara could even think of a response, the she-devil spoke again. "Are you even _legal?_"

Tara bit her lip to stop the grin threatening to spread across her face. Tara recognized the look even if it wasn't one directed at _her_ very often.

_Jealousy._

"I'm fifteen," she said, fighting to hide the amusement in her voice. "I'll be sixteen in three months but either way it's still legal for me to have a job here." _And we both know what you really meant to ask is if I'm old enough to be fucking your boyfriend._

"Oh. Okay." Apparently her age was enough to smooth out _most of_ the wrinkles etching into Red's forehead. "Go find Keith. He's out on the floor somewhere, probably stocking the shelves. He'll give you the run down. I've got paperwork I need to file."

Without another word Karen headed back towards the desk and sat down, picking a paper up in one hand, the phone in her other. Tara didn't know whether Karen looked her way again as she was already headed out the door to find this "Keith" person. But when she heard Karen tell her friend Carlie that she'd "talk to her later", she heard the light beep of the phone keys as Karen dialed another number.

Tara giggled under her breath when she heard Karen's say "Is Elliot there?" just as she pulled the office door closed. As she walked through the aisles in search of Monroe Market's assistant manager Tara wondered just how much trouble Elliot Oswald was going to be in for gifting a leggy, teenage brunette with a job to finance her college fund. Sometimes doing things out the goodness in your heart backfired big time.

Especially when it involved doing favors for _any _female that isn't the one you're dating.

* * *

Tara's first day of work had gone by pretty fast. There hadn't been a hitch in her shift all day. It was just after ten in the evening. Karen, the Head Manager with the _generous_ boyfriend had suggested Tara stay until closing to "learn the ropes a bit more" Tara knew it was bullshit but the joke was on her. The only Saturday night plans she'd managed to ruin was a science project due Monday morning. A project that required two people but somehow she'd end up doing solo.

Out of all the shitty lab partners she _could _have gotten her science teacher had the bright idea to pair her up with Jackson Teller, the guy who was too busy being the Prince of Charming to show up to class. Jackson Teller was like a fuckin _Solar Eclipse._ He rarely showed his face but when he did—_God_, why were the assholes always the gorgeous ones?

It was closing time. The entrance doors were already locked, all the lights were off, save for the few hanging above her head where the row of checkout lines were. All the aisles were fully restocked and all but one registered remained unclosed.

Tara chewed her lip, absently brushing at the trail of dirt with the broom in her hand. She'd been thinking hard—trying her damndest to come up with a flaw Jackson Teller had that wasn't his personality. But then a loud tap on the glass doors behind her broke her from her thoughts.

Tara turned around to see three very familiar faces standing outside the store. Gemma Teller, her son the teenage heir to the SAMCRO biker throne and his new favorite flavor Wendy Case.

"Where's Karen?" Gemma asked through the glass.

"She went home," Tara answered. Then before turning back around she added, "We're closed," just in case the _locked doors _and the sign outside _displaying_ their hours wasn't indication enough.

"I know it's late," Gemma said behind her. "But I just made last minute plans for a pancake breakfast tomorrow and their some shit I need to buy. I have a list so I'll be in and out in ten minutes the most."

Tara wondered if she'd be talking so sweetly to her if she wasn't locked out. Knowing her track record with Gemma Teller she highly doubted it.

"Sorry," Tara said not feeling sorry at all. Not even bothering to turn back around, she added, "We open at 11 a.m. on Sundays."

"Go get Karen." Tara could hear the familiar venom easing its way into Gemma's voice. "She knows the situation."

_Is this lady hard of hearing? Karen's _not here. Tara's voice would have had its own brand of venom in it when she _reminded_ Mrs. "Fuck-the-rules-I'm-SAMCRO-bitch" of what she _already _told her.

But just as she turned around, Keith materialized from somewhere in the back.

"Mrs. Teller!" Keith's voice was practically singsong as he rushed over. He quickly turned a key into the lock on the glass double-doors and they swooshed open. Then as if he were afraid her staring at him too long would turn him into stone he quickly hurried off to continue whatever it was he'd been doing before.

Naturally he had just enough time before his marathon-worthy sprint to toss the demand "_Head over to register 4! Ring them up there!_" over his shoulder.

And _in _the Queen of bikers walked.

Prince Teller followed closely behind her, his arm thrown across Wendy's shoulders as he leaned to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said earned him a seductive grin as she angled her body towards him and pulled his face down for a kiss.

A kiss, that it seemed, they had no intention of stopping any time soon.

_Great_. What would her first shift be without the opening scene of a soft-core porn flick in the middle of the section she'd been trying to sweep?

Gemma finally noticed her teen helpers were too busy making out in front of the store's entrance instead of continuing to trail behind her. Sliding the shopping basket in her hand up her arm, her other hand flew to her hip.

"Hey, Wendy!" Wendy's lips pulled away from Jax's with a light _pop. _"How about you spend _less_ time with your lips attached to my son's face and _more_ time helping me get all the shit on my list before little Ms. _we're closed_ shuts off all of the lights and locks our asses in here?"

Wendy giggled as she walked towards Gemma, reaching inside the basket for the grocery list she'd placed inside of it. "As you wish," she said giving her a curtsy. Then she grabbed jax's arm and pulled him along with her towards the poorly-lit bakery aisle.

Jackson had yet to even look in her direction.

And _that _wasn't even the problem.

It was the fact that Tara _actually_ gave a shit. It was the fact that she couldn't figure out _why _she gave a shit.

Tara hated Jax and his whole biker family. So why was the fact that he didn't even acknowledge her twisting her up so badly she wanted to pick the nearest cash register up and launch it at the back of the handsome Outlaw's pretty blonde head?

Why did she care? She didn't like him at all.

No way.

And she had a boyfriend.

She'd been dating David Hale for going on four months. _So what _if he didn't want his family to know about them yet. He'd find a way to warm his parents up to him dating the drunk's daughter eventually. She didn't mind being his dirty little secret. It was kind of….well…_hot_.

Of course it wasn't as hot as him showing everyone how much he was into her in public—like in the middle of a supermarket.

All up close and personal in the frozen dairy section, steaming the aisle up until all the ice cream melted. Or on top of the checkout counter. _Naughty lover's_ special, no coupon scanning required. She'd bet good money that the infamous Jackson Teller would be more than willing. He'd probably make her—

_Nope_. Tara shook her head to clear the crazy that had somehow crawled in through her ears.

She would _never _want anything to do with Jackson Teller.

Jackson... was a jack-_ass._

"You okay, Sweetheart? You look a little…_red in the face_."

And his mother was a passive aggressive bitch.

"I'm fine," Tara replied. Her voice held the perfect tone of _I'm a professional, fuck you very much. _"My night would be just about perfect…_if_ I could finish closing out the store like I'm _supposed _to." Tara hoped like hell Gemma assumed the redness in her cheeks was from anger instead of embarrassment at being caught ogling her son when he swaggered off.

Gemma pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. Clearly she had no regard for the "No Smoking" rule either.

"I shop here all the time," Gemma commented. She brought the cancer-stick to her lips. Lighting the tip, she took a measured pull. "And this is the _first_ time I've seen you working the store."

How did all of this woman's statements always manage to come out like a question?

"Today was my first day."

"Did they show you how to ring up with coupons?"

"Nope."

Gemma reached for an abandoned sales paper on the magazine rack at the end of the checkout ramp. "Well there's actually a few in here that I could use."

Tara wanted to alter the taunting smile on Gemma's face with the barcode scanner behind the counter. A few missing teeth and Tara would have something to be amused about, too. Lucky for her Gemma didn't have long to look through the pages before Wendy and Jax came flying from the aisles, the two baskets in Jax's hands a cluttered mess of the stuff on their grocery list.

Through the corner of her eye Tara saw Jax roll his eyes at the sight of her mother flipping through the magazine on the counter.

"_Come on_, Ma." It was a neat trick the way he managed to whine at her AND pepper kisses along Wendy's collarbone as she leaned back against him. "You got a wad of bills in that luggage you call a purse. We don't need coupons. Can we just pay and go? We're meeting up with Ope' and Donna."

"This here is the Knowles kid's first night on the job," Gemma explained, an evil cheer in her voice. "She needs to get used to handling coupons. Figured I'd help further her education."

Jax pulled his lips away from Wendy's neck to look at Tara full in the face for the first time. "You're my lab partner, right?"

_You'd think you could remember that when you're _supposed _to be doing a research project with me. _

Tara couldn't believe he was actually pretending he didn't know who she was. They were friends once—Junior High school wasn't that long ago.

"We're partners for the class project too…the one due on _Monday_."

"_Shit_" Jax winced. "I completely forgot about that. What's it about again?"

"Don't worry about it," Tara answered sharply. She averted his indigo-gaze to flip through the magazine for all the coupons for the products Wendy had begun placing on the rolling checkout belt. "I'll take care of it."

"You sure?" Jax asked. Tara could tell by his tone that he wasn't about to try and convince her to accept his help. She'd be willing to bet he'd been coasting through high school with everybody doing his work for him since freshman year. That irked her _almost _as much as the fact that he couldn't seem to remember her when she'd been in the same _three_ classes as him since school started a month and a half ago.

"Trust me," Tara said, looking up at him. "It'll be better for both of us if I did all the work."

"I think she's calling you stupid, Jax," Wendy fake-whispered against his neck.

"_Fine_," Gemma interjected. She sounded more bored than bitchy for a change. "Forget the coupons. Just ring everything up. I really _do_ want to be in and out in ten minutes or less."

Tara did exactly what she asked as quickly as she could managed. Gemma wasn't the only one eager to put an ending to this late night shopping event. Jax grabbed four bags in each hand, Wendy trailing behind him as he walked away without so much as a goodnight.

"She's might be a bitch," Tara heard Wendy saying to Jax as they walked towards the exit. "But she's a _smart _bitch….I used to sit behind her for every exam when we had classes together last year. _Easy _B plus if you can copy most of the answers before Nerd-vana hands in her test paper…"

"She's a nerd alright," she heard Jax respond. "But _you're_ the smart bitch for capitalizing on that shit…"

They weren't whispering.

And they weren't speaking loudly for her benefit either. They were simply having a conversation about her as if she wasn't within earshot. Like her overhearing them didn't matter.

Because _she _didn't matter.

At least at home she _mattered_. Even if her father was too drunk off his ass to notice.

Jax's throaty chuckle mingling with Wendy's girly giggle was the last thing Tara heard before the double doors slid shut, the end of summer wind whooshing inside making the unbound pages of the magazine fly across the floor...along with the dirt scattering from the neat pile she'd swept it into.

Mr. Whitman was giving his first exam of the semester on Monday. And she'd be damned if she let that idiot copy off of her.

Tara was too preoccupied with plotting a way to avoid sitting in her assigned seat in the row next him to catch it.

If she'd been staring after him like she'd done when he was in the store she might have caught it. She might have seen when he turned his head to look back at her. She might have caught how he kept his head craned in her direction just long enough to run into his mother when she stopped short in front of him to stub the cigarette in her hand out on the parking lot ground.

And if she'd squinted just a _little _she may have even caught the fraction of a second where his eyes were filled with a begrudging interest that rivaled _any_ look of desire he'd aimed Wendy Case's way all night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A-NOTE: How are you guys liking the new beginning so far? I figured I'd go slow, try not to skip to the events I'd covered in the original too soon (even though I'm so EXCITED about the scenes I've already written for future chapters & the extensions I'm planning for chapters you guys have read before!) **

**Also I'm trying to limit each chapter to either Tara's POV or Jax's without seeing into both their thoughts at the same time. Doing my whole "angst" thing is easier that way.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. (Sure wish I had me a real life Jax to ride with though. I'd own **_him_**)**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Jackson Teller would _never_ be a morning person.

Especially if it meant hearing his mother screeching for him "_to get his lazy ass up_!" every day. Gemma Teller had a funny way of deciding what _rules of life_ her son should follow. She didn't care if he drank beer or smoked weed. It never seemed to faze her how filthy his mouth was when he and Opie joked around. She had a look of pride and an "_Atta' boy_" smile when Jax had to be handcuffed for beating the shit out of David Hale that one night a couple years ago. And he _knew _she was well aware of him _borrowing _her car when he dipped out on weeknights. Fifteen year old Jackson Teller pretty much did whatever he wanted on a regular basis and he got no reprimands from Gemma.

"_Ten minutes! And then I'm dragging your ass across your bedroom floor!"_

But for reasons beyond his understanding she still _insisted _he go to high school. It wasn't as if he needed a diploma to qualify for the lifestyle they lived. He seriously didn't get his mother sometimes.

Jax rolled over, squinting his eyes at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed. _5:25_ A.M. The word _ungodly _came to mind. He took his sweet time getting ready, too. He dragged his feet as he blindly picked a t-shirt from his dresser and a pair of jeans from inside his closet. His white Nikes were exactly where he'd kicked them off the night before. He was almost finished tying the laces on his right sneaker when something occurred to him.

He looked behind him at the girl in his bed. Wendy was fast asleep, tangled up in his sheets, dirty blonde hair all over the place.

"Pssttt. _Wendy_," Jax whispered.

She didn't move even an inch.

"_Wendy!_" He called her again, just loud enough that he wouldn't alert his mother. The last thing he wanted was another lecture about him letting them "Cr_oweater bitches" _sleep in her house. Especially since Wendy Case wasn't even one of them. She wasn't an Old Lady wannabe. And she for damn sure wasn't his girlfriend. Wendy and Jax just got along really well. And it made perfect sense.

Wendy Case was Jax _with breasts_—and maybe a little less charisma and _a lot_ more family dysfunction.

Sure, she liked to have a good time—and Jax was always eager to _give her one—_but she also liked having a place to lay her head that didn't include a Junkie mother who let her married boyfriend beat on her every other weekend. They weren't soul mates. They were kindred spirits.

Giving up on waking her by calling out her name, Jax walked around to her side of the bed and shook her.

"What?" Wendy grumbled. Blonde waves falling all over her face he could just barely make out when she opened her eyes to glare up at him.

"I got breakfast with my folks," Jax said pointing down at the floor. "And _you_ have a scheduled trip through that window," he added pointing at her exit, "unless you want to stay for some oatmeal with a side of _what the fuck you doing here?_"

Wendy groaned. She sat up, her long hair falling over her naked chest. "What time is it?"

Jax leaned down towards her, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied her dark-brown ones. She seemed more hung over than usual. "Did you take something last night?"

"Like what?" Wendy yawned as she reached for her bra on the floor next to the bed.

"You know what I mean." Wendy looked up at the hardness in his voice as she slid her panties up over her hips.

"I knocked back way too many shots ... _just like _you_ and Opie_," Wendy snapped. She bent over grabbing her wrinkled jeans from the pile of clothes littering his bedroom floor. When she finished zipping and buttoning them she looked up to see the contempt and suspicion in Jax's eyes hadn't faltered one bit.

"_Jesus_ _Christ_, Jax. All the bullshit I have to go through because my mom can't stop shooting that crap in her arm. Do you honestly think I would even _consider_ messing with any of the hard stuff?"

There was a pregnant pause when neither of them said anything. Instead they stared in each other's eyes—Wendy's were wide, one freshly waxed eyebrow cocked up towards her unruly bangs.

A minute went by before Jax's face finally softened. "You sleep like the dead."

Wendy giggled and the tension in the air melted away. "You try living in _my_ house for a week. I guarantee you'll learn to tune out anything. _Even _Gemma's Monday morning drill-sergeant routine."

"I _guess._" Jax's smile said _yeah, I _doubt _it. _He picked up her shirt before she could reach for it and handed it to her. "I'll see you in history." _If me and Ope don't dip out earlier._

"If you and Ope bother to bring your truant asses to class," Wendy remarked.

Jax chuckled as he headed for his bedroom door. "Later, Darlin'."

"_Hey, Jax_." Wendy's voice was unusually quiet. Jax looked back at her, his fingers curled around the door knob. He nodded his head at her.

"Yeah?"

Wendy's smile was neither teasing nor seductive. It was just _that. _A smile.

"Thanks," Wendy said. Before his eyebrows could fully knot together she quickly added, "For caring, I mean….it's nice knowing you care about me."

Jax nodded, unsure of what exactly she expected him to say.

Nothing apparently.

Wendy turned away, throwing her other leg out over the window sill and began tiptoeing across the roof, boots in her hand.

Jax stood there a little while after the head of wild blonde curls disappeared from view. He hadn't meant to come off like a concerned boyfriend. It was the _principle_ of it. Drug addicts—especially people his age—made his skin crawl. But now that she'd said it he couldn't deny it. He _did_ care about Wendy. He might not have been into her in a "hold her hand and play with her hair" kind of way. But he'd care if she was on the road to becoming her train wreck of a mother. He'd really hate that shit. It'd be such a waste.

_"__Jackson! Breakfast is getting cold! Let's _go_!"_

Jackson picked his school notebook off of the floor by the door where he'd tossed it last Friday. Folding it in half he tucked it in the back pocket of his baggy jeans and walked out into the hallway to head to breakfast. He really hoped his dad was in a better mood. JT hadn't been right since he got back from Belfast a couple weeks ago.

The Teller Pride wouldn't let him speak on it but he _really_ missed his dad. He missed the devoted father he used to be—_before Thomas got sick._

* * *

The rest of Jax's morning went along exactly as he expected.

_Until he left his house._

Back at the Teller residence everything was business as usual. Gemma went on and on about shit she didn't really care about just to fill the silence. His father sat in his chair at the head of dining room table, scribbling away in some book. Periodically he'd reach for the steaming coffee mug his wife had sat in front of him—but that was it. Jax barely got a "good morning, son." He barely glimpsed the forlornness and confliction in his father's eyes before they disappeared into the pages filled with words Jax couldn't decide if he wanted to sneak a peek at.

Jax ate his oatmeal in uncomfortable silence. And when the rumble of _Piney's_ Harley sounded from the front yard, Jax watched as his father tucked his notebook inside the leather kutte on his back and said goodbye to his Old Lady with a kiss that was almost an afterthought. "I'll see you later, Son," JT said, briefly bracing his hands on Jax's shoulders before feeling the kitchen. It wasn't the physically leaving his family that made Jax's chest feel hollow. It was the fact that lately JT was never really there even when he was sitting right in front of him.

Ten minutes later Jax was sliding into the front passenger seat, a lit cigarette in his hand as his mom pulled out of the driveway to drop him off at Opie's on her way to _Teller-Morrow_. As usual the music humming from the radio eliminated the need to talk about how far away JT was from both of them.

And when Gemma stopped the car in front of the driveway of the home directly across the street from Opie's house Jax turned towards his mother to kiss her goodbye—like he always did—and say "I'll see you later, Ma."

He _did _kiss her cheek but when he pulled back to reach for the door, the bit about seeing her later died on his lips as something across the street caught his eye.

She was moving so fast he'd almost missed her. He'd recognize those legs and that mop of brown hair anywhere. What the hell was _Tara Knowles _doing sneaking back into her house on a Monday morning? Jax craned his neck to get a better view of her backyard.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

Jax ignored his mother completely. _Hhmmm_. There were no houses on the other side of the fence behind her house—just the highway.

It didn't _appear _to be the walk of shame. Jax had never heard of a one night stand where the girl packed pajamas to wear home the next morning. He highly doubted she'd gone for a morning jog in purple flannel PJ's and if she _had_ why would she climb her backyard fence instead of jogging back through her front yard? It didn't even looked like she'd come from there anyway. It looked more like she'd came from inside Opie's—

Suddenly, Opie's face appeared as he leaned his head out of what Jax knew full well was his _bedroom _window. Opie yelled something Jax couldn't quite make out at Tara's retreating figure just as she climbed up into the window on the side of her house. If _Tara_ heard him she didn't act like it. Instead of responding she pushed the window closed and pulled the blinds down shortly after.

_What the fuck?_

"You want to know something?" Gemma's voice barely cut through the thoughts swirling in his brain about what he just saw. "It doesn't matter how old you shitheads are. _Fifteen_ or _thirty-five_. You fools are always sticking your dicks where they don't belong."

"Huh?"

"Opie," Gemma answered, pursing her lips. "Isn't he dating that Donna Lewis girl? I know you boys are young but if you want be single... ... ... you men really are all the same… ... ... and another thing!"

Gemma's mouth was steadily moving but the sound emitting from it wasn't registering. All Jax could think was _I'm not hallucinating. My mother seen it, too. _He'd just saw Tara sneaking out Opie's house. His best friend with the sweet-as-pie girlfriend the _Club _wouldn't stop giving him hell about was cheating. And oddly enough him cheating on Donna wasn't even what was bothering him.

It was _who_ he was cheating with.

Of all the skirts chasing after them with hopes of being Old Lady's to the future of SAMCRO why did he have to be screwing Tara Knowles?

And why the _fuck _did he care so much? Tara _hated _him. And in recent years he discovered he couldn't stand her ass either. So why was his blood boiling? Why did it feel like he was seeing Opie's house through infrared like he was the fuckin predator? It was like Wendy and the drugs _all over again_ only somehow he felt twice as irritated and he didn't even care about Tara. He didn't even know her.

Well, he _used_ to know her.

They used to be friends. In the second grade they both got to stay home with Mary at Piney's house when they got the chicken pox. To this day his mother still insisted that _Tara _had been the one to give _him _the cooties. She was the first girl whose honor he'd ever defended. He'd kicked Jacob Hale Jr. in the nuts for calling Tara an Orphan when she corrected his pronunciation of the word "voluptuous". They used to joke about it whenever the girl he'd been _trying_ to flirt with walked pass them in Jr. High. They used to joke about a lot of things. He knew the Tara Knowles from way back when like the back of his hand.

But that was years ago.

They were in high school now. A lot of shit changed since the elementary years. Now instead of a smile he was greeted with a scowl. And that was when she bothered to look his way at all.

He felt like a damn fool the other night at the grocery store. He thought his neck might have a permanent cramp in it after how hard he had to try _not _looking at her. To her, it seemed that ignoring him was an art form. Jax was determined to give her the same treatment.

Gemma rolled down her window as Opie crossed the street towards them.

"Donna's a real sweetheart, Ope," Gemma commented. "Quit acting like you're a free dick before she realizes you don't actually deserve her." _Lecturing a teenage _BOY_ about relationships. you're on a roll today, Ma._

Opie Winston's usual "Good morning, Gemma" sounded a little more like "_What the fuck are you talking about?"_ when he said it.

When Jax slammed the passenger door shut Opie briefly looked up from the stern glare of the SAMCRO matriarch's face to look over at her son. The brooding expression on Jax's face made Opie do a double take to make sure it wasn't John Teller that got out of the car.

"You make sure you go to _all_ your classes, Jackson!"

Jax tapped the hood of the car instead of responding. The moment he cleared the front of it Gemma drove off.

"What's up, bro." Judging by the Opie's grunt, Jax may have slapped his best friend on the back a little harder than usual when they hugged.

"You having slumber parties now?"

The question—which sounded _exactly _like the accusation it was—flew off his tongue before he even pulled away from the hug. Jax blew smoke out through his nose. Annoyed as he was he still passed the cigarette in his hand over to Opie.

Opie took a lung-scorching pull from it before responding. "Did someone forget to tell me about _Speak in riddle Monday's _or something? What's with you and Gemma and the random ass comments and questions?"

Jax's eyes held a menacing gleam in the ocean blue. The threatening smile spreading across his face was identical to the one the one he normally wore whenever he caught Kyle Hobart bragging to Wendy about him _prospecting_ with the _SONS. _ Kyle was constantly killing his buzz trying to flirt with the chick who was leaving with _him_ at the end of the night. Hobart was a pain in the ass. But this was Opie, his best pal standing in front of him. What the hell was wrong with him? With Wendy he knew it wasn't about jealousy but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what _this _was. All he knew was that whatever it was he shouldn't put it on Ope.

"The fuck is wrong with you, bro?" Opie looked confused instead of offended.

"It's nothing man," Jax said. The threatening smile disappeared. "Gemma was giving me a lecture, bitchin about how men mistreat women when you walked out. For some reason this came to mind when she was staring over at _your _house."

"What the hell do I have to do with that?"

"She thinks your cheating on Donna." _And we _both_ saw Tara Knowles sneaking out of your window._

"I'd _never_ cheat on Donna." Opie glared.

So much for him being the coolheaded one.

"_You asked_, bro." Jax shrugged his shoulders.

Opie looked away towards his father's truck. He pulled at the beanie on his head, needlessly adjusting it. "_I love her, man_," he admitted quietly. Then, clearing his throat he stalked off. Jax heard the click of the driver's side door of the truck opening before Opie shouted, "Come on, man. We still have to stop by Donna's on the way to school."

Jax shook his head as he walked around to the passenger side of the pickup. He didn't know if it was to try to clear all the confusing thoughts in his brain or if it was because he couldn't believe how much of a softie his best friend was turning into. He and Opie always kept it real with one another. When Opie spoke he always knew he could take him at his word. But if he wasn't cheating on Donna…_what the hell was Tara doing sneaking out of his bedroom?_

Maybe he'd have time to ask _her _in their third period math class—_before_ they took that stupid math exam.

Gemma and Piney were wacked in the head if they thought they were doing right by their children by making them go through all the bullshit motions as if they were _anything_ like those other Charming high school teenagers. _Their_ future was SAMCRO—_not_ University. So really, what was the point?


	3. Chapter 3

**To all of my lovely [**FOLLOWERS**], thank you & I hope you enjoy my bundle* uploading of chapter**S** today. **

**I trust you'll let me know your thoughts on |**each**| one in the review box. **

**Now as for all of you [**_GHOST READERS_**] I sing to you in my most horrific yellow brick road voice: **

_FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW….._

**The |**story**|… ****_in case that wasn't clear. _****(And if you need to stroll down a bright-yellow painted lane in order to do so that's ****_totally acceptable_****)**

**P.S**: The **(M)** rating for this FanFic is for the "good stuff" that happens later but as of now I'm writing about a group of **teenagers** so scrub the grown up versions of our favorite characters from your minds and _just go with it._ There's a method to my madness, I promise.

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

"Tara, wake up," Opie whispered. Tara stirred immediately. Opening her eyes, she glanced towards the early morning light seeping into the room.

"_Shit_." Tara jumped up from the bed, darting across Opie's bedroom floor towards the window. She angled a bare foot over and out of it when it occurred to her that it might be a good idea to put her slippers back on first.

"Relax," Opie said as she bent over to pull her house shoes from underneath his bed. "My dad already left. I just didn't think you'd appreciate it if I let you oversleep."

Tara shoved her feet in both slippers, and quickly grabbed the robe she'd almost forgotten from the on top of his dresser, wrapping it around her body before she even looked in his direction again.

"_This is the last time_," Tara said, her eyes focused somewhere on the wall behind him.

"Yuuup."

Tara cocked her head as she studied his expression. He was smiling at her but his smile lacked the gloat any other guy's might have had. She knew that there would probably be a next time. And she knew that _he_ knew it, too. Yet he always took her vow to never climb through his window again at face value.

"Thank you," Tara mumbled. Then before he could see the embarrassment reddening her face she headed for the window again with even more urgency.

"If you _want_ I can give you a ride to school," Opie offered just as she pushed the window up. Still gripping the windowpane, Tara turned to face him.

He was picking his pillow and the Afghan blanket he'd took from his living room couch off of the corner of his bedroom floor where he'd slept the night before.

Folding the blanket in half Opie tossed it on his bed, covering the single, fading imprint she'd left in the middle of it. Then _almost _as an afterthought he added, "I usually pick Donna up first. Then Jax if his mother doesn't drop him off."

She was _almost_ considering it until he mentioned _Prince Charming_.

"I'd rather walk." Tara answered more sharply than she intended. Then she added, softly, "Thanks anyway."

Tara hopped out of the window, her feet firmly planted on the ground. She was almost at the side window of her house when she heard Opie shout after her, "You forgot your pillow!"

She was about to turn back and get it when through the corner of her eye she noticed a familiar car parked across the street from her house.

_Gemma Teller_.

That could only mean one thing: _The Prince had arrived_.

No way in hell she was going back now. She made a mad dash for the half-cracked window of her dining room. She yanked the blinds shut the second she twisted the top lock back on. She didn't have the nerve to check so instead of peering through the window at the car, the whole way to her bedroom she silently prayed that neither Gemma nor her son had seen her sneaking out of the Winston house.

* * *

Opie had the right idea waking Tara up when he did. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Tara was delighted to find that her father had went back out when she'd escaped the night before. And with the _migraine-inducer_ gone for the morning she had extra time to spend on herself.

She took a shower longer than ten minutes without Arthur Knowles banging on the door, yelling for her to "_stop wasting water!_" Instead of going to school with her poorly towel-dried hair in a disastrous, frizzing ponytail, she'd had time to take a flat iron to it and actually wear it down for a change. She was only responsible for breakfast for _one _and she'd even had time to do some extra studying for her third period math test.

Tara was in good spirits as she walked the couple blocks over to Charming High. Her almost-run in with the Tellers—and even her father's latest _episode_ was all but forgotten.

Tara saw Jax first—_naturally_.

True to form he had his armed wrapped around Wendy Case's shoulders.

A pint-sized brunette Tara recognized from her P.E class was sitting in Opie's lap, smiling at something he was saying, while he ran his fingers through her hair. _Must be that Donna chick he's always yakking it up with on the phone_,Tara thought. She briefly contemplated walking up to them to say hi. But then the sound of Wendy's laughter cleared the notion from her mind. Blondie was grating her nerves. Seriously, how did Jax put up with that obnoxious giggle all the time?

Judging by the scene playing out in front of her, Tara had a pretty good idea. Jax angled his body towards her, slowly, unabashedly sliding his hand up her skirt. Tara watched as Wendy's hand clamped down on his from outside of the barely there fabric. No giggle this time. Just _the stare_.

It was _Lolita_: the Wendy Case edition.

Leaning into him, she whispered something in his ear. How the hell was she supposed to walk past that? She had to turn away before she lost her breakfast.

She saw David _next._

Avoiding the public display of _nasty _on the front steps she scanned the parking lot. That was where she spotted him—her boyfriend of four months, leaning against his brother's truck. A couple of other members of football team were gathered around his brother. Whatever Jacob Hale was saying didn't seem to interest his younger brother much because David was doing some avoiding of his own.

That was when their eyes met. When Tara's eyes locked with his, David's face lit up. Tara smiled back but when she moved to walk towards him his expression changed. In a matter of seconds he went from a grin that said he was happy to see her to a look of guilt as he subtly shook his head once, his eyes darting to where his brother stood.

_Message received. _

It was PDA central on Charming High's front steps. And as she approached the stairs Tara couldn't help but feel a little bitter. It was times like these when dating someone in secret really fuckin sucked.

She climbed the steps two at a time, blowing past all the couples mocking her with their stupid, lovey-dovey, public displays of bullshit.

"_Tara._"

She was SO close.

She'd almost made it past them when Opie's voice rang out behind her. Tara paused, her fingers still curled around the entrance door handle. She didn't turn back around until she heard footsteps approaching—multiple footsteps.

"Hi, _Harry_." Tara swallowed her smile when Opie's nose wrinkled. He hated being called by his first name. But you know what she hated? Being stuck in awkward situations. And him calling her out…and his friends—friends she either _didn't know_ or _couldn't stand_—following behind him when he approached her was the very definition of awkward—well, that and _annoying._

"_Yes?_" Tara prompted when he didn't say anything right away. She was ready to make a break for it. It was one thing that they couldn't be a couple in public. Standing several feet away from him while David pretended she wasn't there was another.

Opie cleared his throat. "Umm…so this is Donna." He waved a hand towards the short, dark-haired girl standing next to him.

"Hi," Donna said, extending her hand towards her. Tara looked at it and then up at Opie. She cocked an eyebrow as if to say, _is she forreal? _

Jax chuckled and four pairs of eyes snapped to him. "What the hell is this, Ope?" Jax asked, his own eyebrows raised. "Are we gonna hold hands and sing Kumbaya or something?"

"No one asked you to follow us." Donna rolled her eyes. "Opie wanted to introduce us. You and," Donna eyes narrowed on Wendy, "What was your name again?"

"Are you seriously going to pretend you don't know—"

"_Anyway_," Donna continued, her voice rising over Wendy's. She turned her attention towards Jax, ignoring his companion completely.

Tara felt like hugging her.

"This conversation doesn't concern you, Teller," Donna scolded. "So _be gone_."

"What the hell is he introducing you for?" Jax looked over at Opie who suddenly found the brick wall of the school very interesting. "Don't you already have gym with her?"

_Why does he know who I have classes with,_ Tara wondered.

"They have _English_ together, too," Wendy volunteered. "I know because I'm in the same class."

"That doesn't mean I _know_ her," Donna snapped. Tara had a feeling it was more at _Wendy_ than her boyfriend's BFF. "I just figured we could maybe get to know each other. Especially since she's always ov—," Opie nudged her shoulder, his eyes bouncing down from that one spot on the wall, to meet hers. There was a _warning _in them. A silent message passed between the two of them—one that made Tara feel sick to her stomach.

_Damn it, Opie._

"Since she's always _what_?" Jax pressed. Tara blanched at the look of suspicion on Jax's face.

First chance she got, _she was going to kill Opie_.

"I just wanted to get to know her better," Donna explained lamely. "She seemed nice but I figured she was shy so when Opie said they were neighbors, I—"

"_Oh please,_" Wendy interjected. "Now I _know _you're full of shit. Tara doesn't _seem nice _to anyone." Wendy turned towards Jax. "Donna could have _ten _classes with her and it wouldn't make a difference. It's not as if little miss _I'm better than everyone _ever bothers to acknowledge anyone that isn't giving her an A-plus at the end of the semester."

"Who the fuck asked _you?_" Donna's eyes blazed.

_Damn it, _Tara thought. _Now I _like_ her. Which sucks, since I'm gonna kill her boyfriend later. _

"Jesus Christ." Opie's eyes were back on the wall.

Jax was laughing his ass off. "_Uh oh_," he said. "Tinkerbelle has a temper."

"I'm starting to see why Opie wanted to introduce them," Wendy grumbled. "_Tinkerbell's_ the perfect friend for her. _And she's an even_ bigger_ bitch_."

"What'd you call me?"

"I'm _sorry_, was I supposed to call you _Donna_ instead? I thought we were pretending we didn't remember each other's names."

"I'll give you something to remember," Donna snapped.

Opie grabbed his girlfriend's arm, Jax slid between the two girls, and Tara watched the whole thing in silence. Even when the topic was _her_ she was still somehow on the outside of it all.

"Listen," Jax said, looking back and forth between them. "Y'all need to relax… look at who you're arguing over. Tara doesn't care about either one of y'all so what you getting all emotional for?"

"You don't know who I care about, Teller," Tara seethed. Everyone turned to face her. "And while I have your attention how about you do me a favor and stop talking _about me_ as if I'm not standing right in front of you. Have some fuckin manners."

Wendy giggled. "Aww. Are we supposed to feel bad because _you_ feel invisible?"

"_Wendy_—"

Jax cut Opie off before he could finish his sentence.

"—what's the matter, Knowles?" Jax sneered. "Loneliness finally getting to you?"

"_Go to hell_."

"Believe me, I'm already there, Darlin'."

"Me, _too_," Opie mumbled under his breath. Donna slapped his arm.

"Come on, Wendy," Jax said, shaking his head. "Donna's right. This ain't got shit to do with us. Have fun hanging out with _my _friends."

Jax and Wendy strolled right past them—probably to go find an unsupervised janitor's closet.

"_Wow_." Tara looked up at the shock in Donna's voice. She wasn't angry anymore. Just that quick she was amused about something. "You were right," Donna said to Opie. "Tara _really is_ the reason Jax is—,"

"—Donna!"

"_What_?! It's not as if it's _one sided_."

"I'm the reason Jax is _what?_" Tara's heart was beating a bruise against her rib-cage all of a sudden. Instead of finishing her statement Donna's face broke into a calculating smile that _screamed _she knew something Tara didn't.

Before Tara could work it out in her head how she could get away with _two _murders now, the warning bell finally rang.

Where the hell was that thing when she needed an excuse to walk away before?

Tara fixed her mouth to tell them she had to go so she wouldn't be late for History.

But then David walked past and the puzzled expression on his face threw her off course. She could tell by his face alone that he'd been watching her the whole time. For a moment it looked like he actually wanted to stop and ask her what the hell she was doing with _them. _Tara was happy he didn't, because she wouldn't of had an answer for him.

"We gotta go," Donna said. Tara snapped her attention back to the couple standing in front of her. She watched as Opie laced his fingers in hers. "I need to make sure _this _one actually goes to class instead of dipping out the side exit with that _asshole_ Teller."

_And now I kinda like her again._

"Bye," Tara said quickly.

"We'll talk in P.E," Donna said, looking back as they walked off. "Then I can figure out how I'm going to get you and J—"

"—Donna!"

"_Fine,_" Donna snapped, mock outrage marring her cherubic features. "We'll just talk about how annoying _you _are instead."

_Blabbing to your girlfriend about me spending the night in your bedroom after you _promised _not to tell a soul. _

Donna had no idea just how _annoying _her boyfriend really was.


	4. Chapter 4

**A-NOTE:**

New** Readers, enjoy. Followers who are Vets to |V-Lady Crow's Charming Universe|, I decided to get a little more **_original_**(read: risky) with this one so I **_tweaked it _**a bit before extending it.**

**Let me know your thoughts on it.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**P.S: I **_LOVE _**angst! And hate-you-even-when-i-love-you (or vice versa) relationships…you know….in case that wasn't _obvious_.**

****Whispers… they're _teenagers_. Don't forget they're _teenagers._**

* * *

Jackson Teller wasn't one for solving mysteries.

And normally he didn't give a shit who Opie spent his nights with. But_ something_ was going on between his best friend and the girl who loved to hate him—and it was driving him crazy.

_JACKSON TELLER, PLEASE REPORT TO THE MATH DEPARTMENT IMMEDIATELY._

Correction: _She _was driving him crazy.

He knew it was her—he knew she was the reason he was being pulled out of class before he even knocked on the office door. He knew it before he saw her sitting in one of the two chairs in front of their math teacher Mr. Whitman's desk.

"Good," the balding teacher said. He waved a hand towards the empty chair. "Have a seat Jackson."

Jax was shocked Tara even bothered looking up at him when he moved to sit in the chair next to hers. He couldn't remember the last time she smiled at him instead of scowling.

Of course, her smile was almost as nasty as the glare he usually got.

Oh, she was _loving_ _this_.

Or at least she _would_ be.

One thing Tara would do well to remember was that Prince Charming—_as they called him_—always found a way out of getting punished.

She thought she could get a rise out of him by snitching?

_Challenge accepted_, _Babe._

"You're behavior has improved significantly since last year, Mr. Teller," Mr. Whitman began. "I have to say I'm disappointed to find that we're back at square one."

Jax's face was the picture of innocence as he peered over at Mr. Whitman from across the cluttered math department desk.

"I have no idea why I'm here," Jax lied. "I was in my history class, learning all these interesting facts about the Great Depression. And then all of a sudden I'm being called into your office. What gives _Wit?_"

"_Whitman_," Mr. Whitman corrected. "_Mr. Whitman_."

Jax just shrugged his shoulders, smiling.

"He cheated off of my test."

Jax turned to face the green-eyed brunette sitting in the chair next to him for the first time—the first time _directly_, that is.

Jax had been covertly watching her through the corner of his eye ever since he sat down. He couldn't tell if she was angry or nervous—maybe both. Either way something was making her breathe heavy. The rapid rise and fall of her chest was very distracting.

_Tara Knowles_—Charming High School's know-it-all.

Jax didn't know _what _Opie saw in her or what made Donna want to be friends with her. Pretty much everyone else he knew that crossed paths with her knew Tara as the rude, short-tempered nerd with a drunk for a daddy. She had a perfect GPA and a fucked up everything else.

Well, _almost _everything_._ He couldn't deny she had a few other things going for her. As nasty as her attitude was Tara was gorgeous. And it never looked like she tried at all.

But he'd been damned if he let _her _know that.

Turning to his right he sneered at her as he spoke to their teacher. "She's lying, Mr. Wit. I would _never_ cheat on an exam." Then he turned back to face him with a boyish grin meant to both charm and disarm. "You know math is my favorite subject."

"Then maybe you should try studying for it instead of cheating."

"I didn't cheat off of you," Jax said dryly. He began picking imaginary dirty from underneath his fingernails.

Tara didn't even bother looking in his direction and Jax regretted not getting to see the fire he'd started in those emerald eyes. Instead she stared pointedly at their math teacher. "He gets away with _everything_. He's the reason I had to spend all weekend doing my science project _alone—"_

_"_As oppose to what?" Jax interrupted. _And she complained about _me _talking about her as if she isn't there._

"Excuse me?"

"What else were you gonna do on a Saturday night? You make a new friend I don't know about, Knowles?"

_Someone to help you make a voodoo doll of me and Wendy so you can stick needles in it?_

"Fuck you, Teller." Instead of getting angry Jax just laughed.

_I wish._

"Language, Ms. Knowles!"

"You want to reprimand somebody, Mr. Whitman?" Tara seethed. "How about you punish him for copying somebody else's work? Try that. You can make history by being the first teacher that didn't let him manipulate you."

_He probably would—well him or Mrs. O-_Queef.

"You just heard her," Jax argued. He waved a hand in her direction. "She's lying on me because she's pissed I didn't help her with our science project. I don't know _why_ since I specifically remember her telling me to stay out of it because any _help_ I had to offer would lower our grade."

"You ever hear the saying excuses are like ass-holes?" Tara questioned.

Mr. Whitman cleared his throat. "I think we're all familiar with that particular—"

"Whoever said it was wrong," Tara said, glaring at Jax. "I think it should be _assholes always have_ _excuses."_

"I checked both of your grades," Mr. Whitman cut in. "Your score was 98%, Ms. Knowles. Teller here only got an 88."

_I could have had a 98 too if I hadn't been distracted._

Tara rolled her eyes. "Oh, _please. _Even Prince Charming is smart enough to know not to copy _all_ of the answers. _I saw him looking at my paper._"

Jax watched as Mr. Whitman's eyes scanned through the two exam papers on the desk side by side in front of him. From the look on his face he knew their math teacher had reached a conclusion.

One that was seriously going to fuck up his afternoon plans.

_Time to go with Plan B_.

Jax sighed loudly. "Look Mr. Whitman," Jax said, his voice monotone. "I did glance over at Tara. And I'll admit I may have stared a bit too long but I promise you I wasn't staring at her test paper."

Tara scoffed, her arms folded across her chest. "Oh yeah? What the hell were you looking at then?"

"I was looking down your shirt." _88 instead of 98. Those last ten points were _sooo _worth it though._

Tara's face turned beet-red and Jax wished he had a camera to capture the moment.

"Mr. Teller!"

"You're disgusting!"

_And you're hot when you're angry._

Mr. Whitman and Tara shouted out at the same time.

"What?" Jax said grinning widely. "If she didn't want me to look she should stop with all the V-necks." _And the tight shorts_, Jax added in his head as his eyes trailed down to her legs.

"You're being very inappropriate, Mr. Teller."

Jax raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you seriously telling me you didn't notice? I was under the impression that you liked em' young Mr. Wit." Jax winked at him, waiting patiently for his words to sink in.

Tara gasped. She turned towards Jax with a look of disbelief on her face. But Jax was too busy watching Mr. Whitman turn his own shade of beet-red.

_Yeah that's right Motherfucker_. _I know _all _about your one on one tutoring sessions with Tina that redhead freshman with the nice tits._

After a moment, Mr. Whitman cleared his throat. Jax didn't bother masking the shit-eating grin on his face when his math teacher said just what he expected.

"Consider this your _final_ warning, Mr. Teller," Mr. Whitman said. He began fumbling with his tie. "Next time there's a problem I will bring it straight to Principal Mason. We clear?"

"_Hell fuckin no," _Tara snapped.

_Angry sex. Stop thinking about angry sex with the girl that calls you Prince Smarm-ing._

"We're not clear on anything," Tara complained. "What the hell is the point of me working overtime, studying hard if all you have to do to get by in this school is flash a pretty smile and make inappropriate comments to your teachers?"

"You think I have a pretty smile?' Jax teased. Tara flipped him off without even looking in his direction.

"Ms. Knowles—"

"—I guess SAMCRO doesn't just have the cops on their payroll. They have the educators blowing them, too."

_Great. You sound like that douche bag Hale._

"Watch it, Ms. Knowles."

"Or what? You'll give me a _final warning?"_

"No, but I will give you detention," Mr. Whitman said, sporting an indignant glare of his own. "Three days, starting _this afternoon_, Ms. Knowles."

Jax was sure if he looked closely he could see steam coming out of Tara's ears.

"_Wow_," Jax said, his eyes wide and filled with mischief. "You try to get _me_ in trouble and you end up being the one with detention. I would say karma's a bitch….but we both know Karma has nothing on you, Darlin'."

* * *

As it turned out, Karma didn't discriminate.

Tara may have gotten in trouble for trying to snitch on him. But he _did_ cheat off of her test so naturally the Universe found a way of evening out the score.

Mr. Whitman may have screwing one of his students, but Jax didn't have shit on _Mrs. O'Keefe_. That Irish gash was on the warpath ever since her daughter got suspended.

She blamed Jax for her precious _Maisey_ being caught on her knees in the third floor Janitor's closet. As if it was _his_ fault she didn't remember to lock the door. He _did _have other things on his mind…as everyone in the crowded hallway saw when Wendy yanked the door open. They'd had a good laugh about it later on that day.

Jax hadn't even heard the bell ring. All his focus had been on Maize and reminding her to watch her teeth.

Jax wasn't laughing now.

Thanks to Wendy's little prank he had detention for the next three days. _Excessive tardiness my ass_, Jax fumed as he walked down the empty third floor hallway. _You're daughter blew me for the school to see and now _you're _blowing me. And you're using more teeth than she did._

Jax wrenched the cafeteria door open. He was hoping Mr. Whitman was the teacher in charge of afterschool detention for the week. That would mean he could blackmail his way out of staying.

Karma, karma, karma.

There was no Whitman in sight. But then neither was any other teacher.

It was just Tara.

As usual she didn't notice him. But for once it wasn't blatant ignorance. Tara was in her own little world—or rather, the world of Shakespeare. She was flipping through the pages of a book he automatically recognized.

She was sitting with her back against the wall, on top of the lunch table at the far end of the room. Her brown hair flitted ever-so lightly around her face from the wind seeping in through the open floor-to-ceiling window. In the direct sunlight he could make out the golden streaks in her hair from several feet away. And when he got closer, she looked up at him and her eyes were a sparkling emerald.

Undeniable beauty _and_ a bad attitude—dangerous combination.

"I didn't know you were into Shakespeare, now," Jax said, smiling despite her glare.

"There's about fifteen other tables you can sit at or _on_." Her knees were drawn up towards her chest, the novel resting on top of them. She flipped a page and resumed reading like he wasn't there.

Jax raised his arms above his head before slapping them to his sides. "What the hell is your problem?"

_THWACK._

Tara snapped the book in her hand shut. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you always such a frigid bitch?"

"Fuck you."

Jax's smile lacked the mirth it usually held. "_Yeah. _Either me or someone else. _Somebody_ needs to get you laid. Maybe then you won't be so fuckin miserable."

Jax waited for the fireworks. He waited for her to flip out, call him an asshole—launch the book in her hand at his forehead.

She did none of the above.

Instead Tara sat _Hamlet_ down on the table.

Her green eyes locked with his, rooting him where he stood. Tara crossed one long, shapely leg over the other, slowly caressing the one on top. Up and down her hand slid. Each time her fingers traveled closer to the spot where her denim shorts ended, and his imagination began.

"I think you're right, Jax," Tara breathed. "_Maybe _I should let you slide your hand up my shorts… … Or better yet _maybe _I should just meet you in the janitor's closet…or I could always stop by Club Reaper, let you take me back to one of those infamous dorm rooms so you can help me get rid of all this tension I have."

_Aw, fuck._

"Darlin' I'd be more than—"

"—_or_ I could save myself a trip to the doctor for whatever venereal disease you'll give me and _buy a fuckin vibrator._"

Tara flipped him her middle finger before grabbing her book and pulling her knees back up to her chest to resume reading it.

"I don't know what I did to make you hate me," Jax admitted. "And you know what? I've gone this long not knowing. I think I'll keep it that way because at this point _I really don't give a shit._"

Jax turned on his heel, swaggering off towards the exit.

Fuck detention. It wasn't like he actually cared if they suspended him for not being present. He didn't want to be in school to begin with. And the reasons why were steadily piling up.

"I don't _hate_ you, Jax." Jax spun around to face her. "I hate _your family_."

"That's the same thing as hating _me_."

Tara shook her head, looking up from the open book in her hand. "I used to think that, too. I used to hate you as much as the rest of them but then I realized you're just a victim. You're like _me. _You can't help the family you were born into—"

"—oh give me a fuckin break." Jax glared. "You really expect me to believe that stick up your ass is because you pity me? And just so we're clear I don't need your fuckin pity. My family—"

"—they're criminals," Tara challenged. "They never see any justice for half the bad shit they do and you're no different."

"I'm supposed to feel guilty because I sleep around? Because I have better shit to do then memorize all the formulas for a stupid math test?"

"You really think I care about that?"

"Of course you do! Why the hell else would try to get me in trouble?"

Tara hopped up from the table, her feet stomping when she stood up on top of it.

"Maybe I want you to be held accountable for something for once in your life!"

"Who _the fuck_ appointed you as the judge of what I do?"

"Jackson—"

"NO! _Hold on a second_. You want to claim you're looking out for me? Is that it? Trying to teach me some sort of life lesson… _for my own good_" Jax climbed on top of the table with her. "I should be looking out for you, too, Tara. Maybe I should hit up my father's _good buddy_ the cop. I bet _being on his payroll_ means he won't mind lending me a Breathalyzer. I could check _you_ every day to make sure you're not turning into your _drunk daddy._"

"Unser's lending out Police equipment, _is he_?" Tara's voice was low and deadly. "Where the fuck was this Breathalyzer when you and your redneck family almost killed Sarah?"

Confusion temporarily abated his anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"She almost _died_, Jax." Tara wiped angry tears from her eyes. "And then your family ran her off."

"Great." Jax rolled his eyes. "Another round of the _SAMCRO DID IT! _game. This shit is getting real old, Tara."

"I doubt it'll _ever_ get old for her brother."

"Oh _I don't doubt that_," Jax sneered. "But what the hell does Hale have to do with you hating my—"

"—I watched his sister collapse in front of _your_ house! They pumped her stomach and she still didn't wake up until almost a week later!"

"You think it's _my fault _she got alcohol poisoning? No one forced her to drink! I damn sure didn't tell her to overdo it her first time."

"_First time?_" Tara pointed to her ear. "Do you even hear yourself? We were in Junior High not Junior _college_. There should have never been booze at your party to begin with!"

"_You _were the one doing shots with her!"

"That's not the point!"

"THEN WHAT IS?!" Jax scrubbed his hand across his face. "This shit we're talking about here…its _ancient history_. So the Hale's decided to ship the family scandal off to boarding school or some shit. That's not my problem. And it's not SAMCRO's problem either."

"I told the _truth,_" Tara croaked. "When the cops asked what happened I told them where we were, who was there and how it happened. I didn't lie."

"Good for you." Jax gave her a thumbs up. "So today's not the _first_ time you've been a snitch. What's your point?"

"My dad made me recant my statement," Tara barked. "He made me change my story when Chief Unser stopped by our house to _follow up._"

Jax shrugged his shoulders. "No one _forced _you to do anything—"

"—he did _that _night," Tara declared. "He made me recant my statement _because your father _threatened_ me_."

Jax's nostrils flared. Speaking through his teeth, he bit back, "You are so full of shit."

Then he jumped down from table.

"What's the matter, Jax?" Tara shouted at his back. "You surprised my _drunk daddy _actually cared enough to protect me from _yours_?"

Jax whipped around. "_Bitch_, you are _so _lucky I don't believe in hitting with women."

"It wasn't even about _you_, Jackson," Tara argued.

She stepped down from the table. "What did he care if you got a couple months in Juvenile Detention? A criminal record is practically a badge of honor for you SAMCRO _boys_…but G_od forbid _the Matriarch be held accountable for her fuck ups"

"You're _really_ playing with fire, Tara."

"_Gemma_ left a house full of minors unattended with an open liquor cabinet. And David's sister almost died because of it," Tara said. "I get it _now_ but back then I wasn't think about getting anyone in trouble. Officer Hobart asked me what happened and I told him the truth. And then _your family _threatened me. I'm not surprised at all the Hale's sent Sarah away from here. You're lucky they didn't press charges anyway—witness statement or not."

"Luck ain't got shit to do with it, Darlin'."

"_Right_. They let your mother slide out of the goodness in their heart."

"Let's be clear about two things." Jax held one finger up in front of her. "_ONE_, I have no idea if what you're telling me is bullshit or not but it_ doesn't _matter_. Anything_ my Old Man did was to protect his family. Ain't no shame or blame in that."

Tara eye's widened. "How could you say—"

Jax held his hand up. "_TWO. _You need to knock the Hale's off that fuckin pedestal you prop them up on. Because I don't have to be _patched in_ to know that _Judge Hale_ isn't half the innocent man you think he is. _SAMCRO_ might be outlaw. But at least they own the shit they do. My father doesn't hide behind a law degree and a three-piece suit. You're just as delusional as _Davey boy_ if you don't think his father has just as much dirt on the _gavel_ in _his _hand."

"So _what_? Hale being wrong means no one else has to do the right thing?"

Jax shook his head. "Are you kidding me? This is _why_? You cut me out of your life over something I had nothing to do with? Did I shun _you_ when your father got trashed and almost ran me down when I was riding my bike to Opie's?" Tara eyes darted to some place over his shoulder. "_Jesus Christ_, Tara." Jax raked a hand through his hair. "This is some real sins of the father _bullshit_. I know you're Irish but—."

"This isn't about religion!" Tara shrieked.

There was a brief moment when neither one of them said a word.

"_You're right._"

Tara met his eyes when she heard the defeat in his voice. "This is about you needing a reason to hate me." Jax swung his arms up at his sides, his palms faced upward. Shrugging his shoulders, Jax began walking backwards. "_Have at it, Babe_. I'm _done_ trying to fix whatever this is—whatever this _was. _Feel free to hate me _all _you want."

_Maybe one day I'll hate you just as much._

_Maybe._

Jax's phone rang as he walked through the empty hallway. He flipped the cell phone open, tucking it between his shoulder and ear as he dug in his pockets for his lighter. "Yeah," he answered, pulling the loose cigarette from behind his other ear. "What's up Ope?"

_"Detention let out yet?"_

"Wit' wasn't here," Jax said, blowing smoke through his nose. "I'm headed out now but _listen_ Ope….….."

_"I hear you, bro."_

Jax pushed the school's side exit door open. "Do you remember what happened with Sarah Hale?"

When Opie spoke, Jax could hear the amusement in his voice. _"_Funny_. I was just about to ask you how detention with Tara went."_

Jax nostrils were doing that flaring thing again. "I saw her slipping out of your window this morning. That's what _I _find funny."

_"Shit."_

"Is Donna good with that?"

_"Tara or Hale's sister. Which _truth_ you want first?"_

_The one that doesn't involve my father threatening the first girl I ever wanted around for more than what was under her skirt, _Jax thought.

To his best friend he said, "Aren't they the _same_ thing?"

"Yuuuup."

* * *

Jax was pouring his second glass when he heard his father's Harley pull into the driveway. The butt of the cigarette in his hand was a glowing cherry in the darkness of the kitchen.

Gemma wasn't home when he got in—probably off at Monroe Market looking for a cashier to harass.

John Teller's keys pinged against the ceramic bowl on the end table by the front door. Without even turning to face him, he knew the _clunk _against the surface was the gun his father always kept concealed inside his Kutte.

The house was quiet so they didn't have to speak loudly for their voices to carry.

"I thought you guys weren't due back until the weekend," Jax commented.

His eyes were on the glass swirling in his hand as his father's footsteps approached.

The liquor bottle disappeared from Jax's line of vision as JT picked up from the table. "Is that why you're about two thirds into my whiskey?"

Jax shrugged. "That's just the Irish in me, I guess."

When JT pulled the cigarette from his mouth Jax finally looked up at him.

Even in the dark he looked the same way he did when he left—miserable. And this was one night when his misery had company.

"What are you doing?" Jax asked as he stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray.

"You're too young to be chain smoking and getting drunk every night."

Jax wasn't sure if it was the hazing effect of the liquor in his system or if it'd really never happened before. But Jax couldn't think of a time when he had _ever _looked at his father the way he looked up at him now.

With contempt—with disgust. "Are you kidding me? You ignore me for weeks and the first conversation we have is a lecture on what I shouldn't be doing? How about we talk about what you _should _be doing? Being there for your family instead of moping around like a fuckin mummy."

Old JT would have snatched him up by his neck for talking to him like that. The new version sat in the chair across the table from him.

"Listen, Son—"

Jax's bitter laugh seemed to echo.

"_Son?_" Jax half-slurred. "I was under the impression that you forgot you still had one."

"I know you're angry with me," JT said. "And you have every right to be. I haven't much of a father since…"

Jax knocked back what was left in the glass in front of him, slamming the glass hard against the Mahogany oak.

"You're the one that poured me my first shot," Jax said. "you remember that? You and ma laughed for ten minutes when I spit it up all over the floor." Jax narrowed his eyes, cocking his head like he was trying to remember. "_How old was I then_?"

JT sighed. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Jackson. Don't want you to end up like—"

"—l_ooking out for me like you looked out for Ma' when you threatened Tara?_"

He hadn't meant to say it. He swore to himself that his conversation with Opie hours earlier was the last time he'd speak of it.

JT actually looked guilty—and all it did was piss his son off even more.

"She wasn't looking to get anyone in trouble. She was scared and her first reaction was to tell the truth like any other person would do—anybody that wasn't _raised_ not to talk to the cops."

"Whatever you're thinking. Whatever you think you know—"

"I know the Hale's were pushing for reckless endangerment and whatever other charge they could make stick. I know _that_."

"Did you want your mother to go to jail?"

Jax slammed his fist on the table. "What I _wanted _was the truth. She was _my _friend. I could have convinced her to change her story. If you told me what happened I _would_ have convinced her. You didn't have to threaten her. All you did was prove her father was right about all the shit he's always telling her about you...telling her about _us._"

"Jackson—,"

"Tell me something, Dad. Who'd you use to send the message? I know it wasn't _Piney_. Clay then? Kozick? Who'd you send to scare the piss out of _thirteen year old girl_?"

"She seems like more than a _friend_ the way you're acting, Son."

Jax steeled his eyes on his father and gave him a long.

Slow.

Clap.

A round of applause.

"Oh this is _perfect_," Jax jeered. "You disappear across the country somewhere for _months. _Then you come back home and now you're a shrink. Telling me to _Just Say No! _ Isn't enough. Now you're analyzing my feelings, too. _Fuck you."_

Even if Jax _was_ sober he'd have no time to react.

JT shot up from his seat—and seconds later Jax and _his _chair was tumbling backwards.

"_You watch your mouth when you're talking to me_!"

The living room lights flicked on just as Jax's ass grazed the kitchen tile.

Neither father nor son had realized the matriarch had come in two minutes before.

"What the hell are you doing, John?"

Jax looked up at his father—there was that same guilty, miserable, _pathetic _look again.

Jax couldn't even be mad anymore.

It was high time he took a page out of his father's book—he was _done_.

Just _done._

The click-clack of Gemma's heels was the only sound in the room as she hurried over to where her son sat on the floor.

"You okay, baby?"

Gemma reached to help him up—Jax shoved her hand away.

He stood up by himself, on wobbly legs, using the same arm he pushed her away with to wipe the blood gushing from his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I'm sorry, Son."

Jax waved him off. "You're _so _sorry it's not even funny."

Gemma placed a hand on her son's shoulder as he walked past. "Jax—"

Jax paused, looking back at her. "Did _you_ know what he did?"

Jax watched as his mother's mouth opened with no sound coming out.

Shaking his head, Jax managed a hallowed chuckle.

"Who the hell am I kidding?" he said. "_You probably put him up to it._"

Then he swaggered off to his room, snatching the bottle his dad had taken from him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A-NOTE:**

**Like most of you I HATED the season six finale of SOA. But there is one moment that I found perfect even if it was bittersweet.**

**It was the scene in the park when Tara tried to place all the blame on Jax and he **_softly_**but **_firmly_**set her straight about being held accountable for her **own **choices. **

She chose to stay.

She chose him **over** and **over** again. **She had the right to be angry that she went thru hell but it wasn't **all **because of his lifestyle. **

**That scene was one of my favorites of the season.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Tara had been staring at the clock on the kitchen wall.

_11:35 P.M._

That was when the first object went flying.

The shot glass shattered against the tiled kitchen wall, barely missing her face. That was when Tara knew it was officially time to make like Rapunzel and climb the hell out of Knowles Tower before her old man caught a case for killing his daughter in a fit of rage—or the other way around.

It was better to play it safe. It wasn't like _she _had intoxication to use an excuse.

After the blow up with Jax, Tara was way too tired to nurse her pride. So she didn't even hesitate to slip out of dining room window and walk over to the Winston's.

Standing below Opie's bedroom, Tara reached up, knocking on the window. It slid open seconds later, but it wasn't _Opie's _head popping out of it.

"Oh, good," Donna said. "It's _about time_ you showed up!"

Tara stood, shell-shocked as Donna peered down at her expectantly.

"Well," she said. "What are you waiting for?" Donna stepped back to where Tara couldn't see her. "Get your stubborn butt in here!"

A familiar chuckle had Tara white-knuckling the frame of the window when she's reached for it. "Your pushy ass girlfriend makes my _mom_ look passive."

"Shut the hell up, _Jax._"

"_Where'd she go_?"

There was no passing GO.

No collecting 200.

Tara _took the hell off_—she could have made the track team the way she hightailed it out of the space between the two houses.

Tara sprinted down the street. There was no way she could go back home tonight. And she damn sure wasn't ready for whatever _come to Jesus_ moment that meddling munchkin Donna had planned.

But she had nowhere else to go.

So she ran—she didn't stop for blocks.

For miles.

And when her lungs finally screamed in protest she keeled over, her hands gripping her knees, gulping for air. When she looked up she took in her surroundings. No longer a blur of shapes and colors, she could make out exactly where she was. She was only two blocks away from the Hale's.

Tara reached inside the deep pockets of the basketball shorts swimming around her waist. She disregarded the three missed calls from Mr. _I tell my girlfriend everything._ She scrolled down her contact list. It didn't take long before she was hitting send on the highlighted number.

It only rang three times before he answered.

"Tara?"

_No, it's the fuckin Easter Bunny. _"Hey, babe."

"You realize what time it is?"

Even though he couldn't see her Tara's hand flew to her hip anyway. "Are you kidding me right now? How about you start with _how was your day?_"

David sighed in her ear. "_I'm Sorry_, baby. Practice ran long today. I'm exhausted."

Tara stopped just as she reached the corner. "You had practice today?"

"From three to five-thirty, why?"

"You knew I had detention," Tara said. "You didn't think to offer me a ride home?"

_I would have rather listen to you wax poetic about football then walk four blocks with nothing to think about but how shitty my day was._

"_Jake_ picked me up."

And there it was.

"Oh."

"Listen, Tara—,"

"—never mind, I get it. _I get it. _That's not what I called for. Listen, I'm about a block away from your place. Can you unlock your window for me?"

David laughed. "You grow wings and didn't tell me? I'm two stories up and mom had that tree cut down months ago—what's going on?"

_My dad thinks I'm my mother who _apparently _spends lots of time being a biker whore in between checking my homework and cutting the crust off my sandwiches._

"I got into an argument with my dad," Tara lied.

"What happened?"

_Jesus H. Christ. _"Are you gonna let me sleep over or not?"

Silence.

He hesitated just a moment too long.

_To hell with _this_ shit. He can find another girlfriend to play Casper the friendly fuckin ghost._

"You know what? Don't worry about it, David. I don't even know why I asked."

"Tara—"

"_What?_" Tara snapped. She was already headed back home. She didn't have any more run in her so she strolled through the dimly lit streets like she was in that park her and Jax used to go to.

_Ugh. _

"I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry, David. And that's a problem."

"I'm gonna tell them."

"_When?_ When are we gonna stop hiding? Enough is enough already."

David spoke so low, she almost missed it. "_Sarah's coming home."_

* * *

Sarah Hale was coming home.

Sarah, the first friend Tara made in elementary school. The girl who loved to read Roald Dahl just as much as she did. _Matilda _was their favorite.

She was coming back.

Sarah—the girl who used to beg her mother to adopt Tara like Miss Honey did and take her away from her mean, drunk father _"Mr. Wormwood". _ The girl who loved to force Tara out of her shell. The girl who loved to be the best at everything, just like her best friend.

The girl who should have never challenged her best friend—the _drunk's kid_—to a round of shots—especially when they were both trying to impress a certain blue-eyed friend of theirs.

She'd be here this weekend. That was all she could think about the whole way home.

When she finally _did _make it home, the last thing she expected to see was Opie sitting on her front steps.

Tara was too tired to kill him now. She'd have to do it tomorrow.

Walking past him as if he wasn't there she turned the knob on her front door.

It was locked.

She reached inside her shorts—and came up empty-handed.

Behind her back, she heard Opie chuckle. "You _always _forget to bring your house keys when you slip out."

Tara walked down the steps without saying a word. She was _so _not in the mood.

"How's Hale?"

Tara froze. "What are you talking about?"

She felt Opie rise up from the steps behind her. "Let me try again. How was your first sleepover at your _secret boyfriend's _house?"

Tara turned to glare at him.

"Or can I even call it that? I guess his folks must have been home. Had to sneak you out the back door before his father saw you."

Tara looked down at the ground. "How long have you known?"

Opie smirked. "I've known since it started." He shook his head at her. "At first I couldn't believe you were letting him treat you like shit but—"

"—you don't know _shit_ about how he treats me—"

"—what I _know _is he's too much of a pussy to tell his parents about you and you're letting him slide because you feel guilty."

"I don't have time for this," Tara hissed. She walked down the path between their houses. She was reaching up to open the window to her dining room.

She had one foot through the window when Opie said, "Jax _knows._"

Tara whipped around so fast she lost her balance. Opie caught her just in time. She barely caught her balance before she was shoving him away.

"You have to be fuckin kidding me!"

Opie winced. "Sure, Tara. Wake the neighborhood up. They won't mind."

"You are _unbelievable! _Blabbing to your girlfriend wasn't enough? You had to gossip with your BFF, too?"

"He saw you hop out of my window this morning. What was I supposed to do, lie?."

Tara's smile was nasty. "Why not? You lied to _me_ when you said you'd keep your mouth shut!"

"How about we cut the bullshit, Tara?" Opie yelled. "Let's get to real reason you're so pissed off."

It was the first time she'd ever seen him lose his temper. It gave her pause.

But it didn't last long.

"I'm angry because you told—"

"Not about _me. _I'm talking about Jax."

Tara cocked a stubborn eyebrow. "First we're talking about David and now it's about Jax. Pick a topic and stick with it."

"How about you pick a _side _and stick with it?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Opie?"

Opie shook his head. "Wow," he said. "Denial is a scary thing. You better hope your boyfriend doesn't find out about your alone time with _Jackson Teller_."

"Opie what the hell—"

"—but _then again_ that'll probably be good for you. I bet you Hale will grow some balls when he realizes you might choose Jax over him…_again._"

Tara threw her hands up. "I'm too tired for riddles. Goodnight!"

Opie grabbed her arm as Tara moved to turn away again.

"_You lied to protect him_," he said.

Tara's eyes narrowed to slits. "I _don't know _what—"

"That shit that happened with Sarah," Opie explained. "You lied to Unser to protect Jax."

Tara rolled her eyes. Waving him off she said, "Jax was never in trouble."

"His mother was."

"I can't stand that bitch—"

"—and she can't stand your ass _either. _Gemma never trusted you and she _hated_ your mother," Opie admitted. "We all knew it. Gemma never tried to hide it."

"Exactly."

Opie shook his head. "I never said you did it for her. You changed your story, you went along with what everyone else said for Jax."

"I did it because his father threatened me!"

"_Bullshit_," Opie snapped. "Do you really expect me to believe that? This is _me _you're talking to. Did you honestly think Piney would let anything happened to you? Did you _really_ believe JT would give orders to hurt a thirteen year old girl?"

Tara's eyes were on the ground again. "John Teller said—"

"_You don't know what the hell he said!_" Tara's eyes snapped up to look at him. "You don't know _who _said it either. All you know is what your father _told you._ And we both know what an honest person that asshole is."

"Why now?" Tara asked quietly. "Any other time you stay out of it. Is this because your girlfriend can't mind her damn business?"

"Don't put this shit on Donna," Opie barked. "This about _you_ not letting shit go. You need to live with the decision _you _made. You didn't lie to cops because you were afraid for your life. You did it for _Jax_ and you don't want to admit that so you walk around angry at him for your choice. You chose _him._ And you lost the Hale's because of it."

"They were like family to me when—"

"—when your mother died," Opie interrupted. Then his tone softened. "Look, Tara. _I_ know it, the Oswald's know it, and anyone paying half attention knows it. Your old man ain't been right since your mother passed. Piney checked out for a while, too. So Sarah—_the Hale's…_they were it for you. Gemma was never gonna welcome you into her home with open arms. You knew what you'd be giving up if you crossed them. _And you chose Jax anyway._"

Tara had no words. So she was praising the lord when Opie's phone rang.

But then he dipped his hand inside the pocket of his jeans and the phone fell silent.

"If you don't want to be friends with him that's fine. But you really need to stop torturing him for _your _decision."

Opie's phone rang again. This time he pulled it out and checked the caller I.D. Looking back up at her he said, "I gotta go. Piney's gone for the rest of the week so you can leave through the front door. Don't forget to lock my window back."

Then he walked off, leaving Tara alone outside her dining room window.

_Everything he said makes sense, _Tara thought as she heard the door to the Winston's pickup truck slam shut.

Tara didn't want to think about what kind of person that made her.

* * *

School the next day was a nightmare.

Tara was running on barely two hours of sleep after a random marathon run around town, a confrontation from her annoyingly-right next door neighbor, and spending hours sitting up in his bed thinking about just how annoyingly-right he was.

When she passed Mr. Whitman in the hallway during fifth period, and he said, "See you at five, Ms. Knowles," part of her wanted to break down in tears and beg him to postpone detention until next week. She had homework to finish, an insufferable father to tend to—_and_ she was scheduled to work until closing time tonight.

When she finally walked through the doors of the cafeteria later on that afternoon she was dead on her feet and daydreaming about her pillow. When she climbed up on top of the lunch table, instead of reading a book she laid across the table. Tara was out like a light in two minutes flat.

And she slept a good hour before she opened her eyes to see a familiar pair of baby-blue's staring back at her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A-NOTE:**

**We're getting **closer **to the night of Jacob Hale's party. Most of y'all know what that means.**

**For now. Detention |DAY TWO|**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Tara's eyes flew open.

And Jax was momentarily caught up in the effect of them. Trapped in her emerald gaze, it took him a minute to realize she was staring at him like he had two heads.

_I probably look like a psycho watching her sleep._

"So I was thinking," Jax started.

Tara moved to sit up. Propping her head in her hand leaning on her elbow for support.

She cocked an eyebrow. "You were thinking…?"

_I forgot _what _I was thinking now._

"I think you should try out for the track team," Jax said.

When in doubt,_ just tease._

"huh?"

"Donna could be your trainer," he continued. "The coach can send her out on the field to ask you questions when he wants you to pick up speed."

"Ha-ha. Hilarious, Teller."

"I'm just saying…the way you took off last night I'd have thought your ass was on fire."

Tara's laughter was a welcome sound. It warmed him up in more ways than one. When was the last time she'd laughed around him? Let alone, at something he _said._

"Is this your version of me hating you all I want to?"

Jax's smile faltered. "I thought you said you didn't hate me."

"I—"

"—do you?" Jax cut her off. "_Do_ you hate me?"

"No." Jax didn't realize he was holding his breath until she answered.

And just like that, the Lady Killer smile resurfaced. "Then we'll just leave the rest alone. _Cool_?"

"Cool."

The following silence wasn't awkward or tense—it was civil, peaceful.

Jax sat on the bench of the table, with his legs spread out underneath. He watched as Tara sat up, sliding against her back against the wall.

He knew it wasn't because she wanted to move away from him this time.

She pulled a book from her bag—Hamlet again—and opened it on her knee like she had the day before. But this time it didn't irk him—it didn't make him feel like the sole purpose of her reading it was to tune him out.

Tara wasn't ignoring him—she was just being her nerdy self.

And that reminded him of something.

"Hey." Jax tapped the one foot she had extended in front of him and she looked up. Her expression was one of guarded curiosity—and he'd take that over the scowl any day.

"You remember when you called Jacob Hale out for mispronouncing the word _voluptuous?" _

The giggle was back, her smile reached all the way up to her Olive eyes—and it felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach, an unfamiliar fluttering in his chest that he chose to ignore instead of analyze.

"Yeah I remember," Tara said. "That boy didn't have game to save his life. But at least it was a step up from singing _baby got back _to every girl that walked past us in the park."

Jax chuckled. "You were a know-it-all even then."

Tara rolled her eyes. "And you were already channeling your inner-outlaw. You decked him in the face!"

"He called you an Orphan! I had to teach him some manners." Jax cleared his throat before adding, more quietly, "And if I remember it correct I didn't punch him…_I kicked him in his balls._"

Tara shook her head, laughing. "If I were you I'd stick with _my _recollection. Kicking guys in the nuts is a _chick _move."

"That idiot's head is made of bricks." Jax held his hands out in front of him. "I couldn't risk damaging these babies. What if I want to be a surgeon when I grow up?"

"That would require you to take _your own _math test," Tara scolded good-naturedly.

"Well in _that _case… maybe I just wanted my hands to stay flawless like the rest of me."

Tara scoffed. "Or you needed to save the strength in them so that _maybe_ one day you could pull your own head out of your ass."

Jax gasped, slapping a hand against his chest. "_That _one hurt. Is this the thanks I get for being a gentleman?"

Tara jutted her chin up at him, narrowing her eyes. "How long were you watching me sleep, _Bundy_?"

Jax smiled at her. "I saw you when you first walked in. You were knocked out before I could make it down the hallway. You know…you look like an _angel_ when you sleep." Jax waited for her smile to spread before he pointed to the top of her head adding, "Now if _only_ you could get rid of the horns."

Tara kicked a leg out at it him. He swerved and it narrowly missed his shoulder.

"Nice try, Satan," Jax teased. "I'm way too much of a ninja for you."

"Yeah?" She rose up on the leg bent up towards her chest and used the same foot to kick at him again—this time her foot grazed his shoulder.

Jax grabbed by her calf and yanked her back down on table. When her other leg flew out, he grabbed her by both of her ankles and pulled. Jax underestimated how fast she was moving—and he stopped pulling a few seconds too late.

Even when he let her legs go she went crashing into his chest. He flipped backwards, managing to break his fall just enough that he didn't snap his legs, which were still curved underneath the table. Leaning backwards like the bridges girls liked to do to show off in gym class, Jax guided his way back up.

Tara was laughing her ass off and Jax laughed right along with her.

But then she stopped when he finally managed to sit upright.

He stopped laughing when he realized why she'd gone quiet all of a sudden.

It wasn't intentional—he hadn't meant to grab her thighs for support. They were just there, just like they _still_ were—spread wide, her legs dangling on either side of his waist.

Jax looked up at her, blue eyes searching…for something.

_What are you thinking right now?_

Tara slowly placed her hand on top of one of his. Her hands burned on top of his, the lightest sheen of sweat dampening her palm. And all Jax could think about was how wet she could be elsewhere. Almost reflexively, his other hand slid a little further up her thigh.

And when she didn't move to stop him he kept going until his fingers were caressing the spot right below the leg of her dark, terry shorts. Slowly, as if he might spook her, Jax pulled his legs from under the table. He ignored the discomfort of the whitewashed wooden bench underneath his knees as he kneeled in between her thighs. She pushed further off the table, her legs curling around his waist. Jax was overwhelmed. His eyes moved from her lips to her neck, to the cleavage peeking out of the V-neck she loved to wear. He couldn't decide where he wanted his mouth first. Tara was going to make the decision for him when she reached her hand out, tangling her fingers in his hair. She didn't have to pull him close, he was already moving in.

His lips were inches away from hers when she pressed her palm against his chest. Looking in her eyes, the hesitation he saw wasn't from _fear_.

It was something else.

Jax knew that look. He'd seen it on the faces of plenty of girls—and it was always right before they tossed the hesitation out the window and cheated on their boyfriends with him.

_Opie I swear to god, if you lied about—no. _

_He wouldn't do that. _

Jax felt like an asshole for even considering it. But then _who_ was that hesitation for? And why hadn't she pulled away yet?

Jackson Telller _never_ closed the gap.

He never had to.

They _always_ made the decision on their own.

But right now, for the first time he was in agony waiting—waiting for Tara to make up her mind. Trying to figure out who she could possibly be dating. How long it'd been going on and he'd not noticed?

He felt as miserable as his father looked when he left for _Church_ that morning.

"_Jax?_" he heard Wendy say behind him.

And the misery would have to simmer a little longer.

Tara jumped back so fast she almost kicked him in the face. He nearly fell backwards on his ass, balancing himself—again. This time he had to rely on the table for support instead of the softness of Tara's thighs.

Wendy wolf-whistled and Tara's face reddened like a tomato.

"Damn," Wendy said. "If this is what detention is all about sign me up."

"You're already signed up, stupid," said a voice. Jax reluctantly turned around. The first thing he noticed was the amusement in Wendy's expression. She wasn't jealous—she was looking rather smug, wriggling her eyebrows at Tara. The skinny chick standing next to her, however, looked downright livid.

"Hi, Jax," the bleached-blonde hissed.

"Hi, _Ima._"

"Whose your new friend?" Ima asked, glaring at the part of Tara's face that was concealed behind the textbook hovering in front of her face.

Wendy giggled. "_New _friend? Ha! More like _old_ friend. These two are the best Soap Opera you'll ever watch."

_Shut the fuck up, Wendy. _ "Wendy," Jax said. "Could you give it a rest?"

"_Fine. _But can we make out then? That evil bitch O'keefe has me in here for an hour all the way through next Friday."

_Jesus fuckin Christ. Even when that Irish gash isn't punishing _me _she's _still _punishing me._

"Wendy—" Jax groaned, shutting his eyes against headache quickly brewing at his temples.

"_What?_ I'm kinda liking your idea of how to pass the time in here." Then she looked over at the brunette pretending to be engrossed in U.S History. "What do you say Tara?" Wendy teased."We can _take turns_. I'll even let you have the first half hour."

_THWACK. _

When Jax opened his eyes, he was half-hoping that it was Wendy's head connecting with the textbook that had made the sound. But unfortunately it was the table Tara slammed it down on before jumping up.

'Where are you going? We still have an hour to—,"

"I have to pee!" Tara snapped. "Is that enough information for you?!"

Wendy actually threw her head back and laughed like a hyena. It was like something out of a fuckin movie.

"You happy now?" Jax grumbled at her.

"_I _am," Ima cut in. 'What did Mother Superior do to end up in here anyway?"

Wendy smirked. "You really calling her a nun after what we just saw?"

Jax chose to ignore the blonde yanking his chain. "It was actually my fault she ended up in here," he admitted. "Well _sort of."_

_"_Guess Whitman did you a favor, huh, Jax?" Wendy said. "Gave you a chance to make up with your childhood sweetheart."

Jax knew Wendy wasn't _just _teasing. She was also watching him—studying his reaction. Probably taking notes for his mother. Wendy _loved _to suck up to Gemma. He didn't have a clue why but what he _did _know was that she wouldn't hesitate to go running her mouth off to her about Tara—and the _very last _thing he needed was his mother causing trouble for him in the name of _protecting her only son_.

He _just _got her back.

"Relax, Wendy." Jax gave her his cockiest grin. "It didn't mean anything. It _doesn't _mean anything. I was just proving a point."

Wendy's eyes narrowed, her mouth twitching at the corners. "And your point was…?"

"My point is _she's full of shit_. Always acting like she's so above it all. No one is immune to the Teller charm." Jax popped his collar and winked at her.

Wendy winked right back but she was looking over his shoulder.

"Had a nice bathroom break, Tara?"

Jax was shoved sideways before he could turn around to face her. A storm of golden brown hair and long legs blew past him.

_When we get past _this _my new nickname for you is going to be, Taz. Tasmanian fuckin Devil._

"Tara—"

"Don't even bother." She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and stalked past him so fast he barely caught her arm.

"Wait a minute—"

"Why?" Her emerald eyes blazed. Jax lost his train of thought as his mind flashed to all things he could do to put out the fire—or make it burn hotter.

Tara tried to jerk her arm free. He gripped harder, reaching out he grabbed her other one spinning her around completely.

"Stop _running_," he implored. "Aren't you sick of it, yet?"

She didn't avoid his indigo-gaze like he expected her to. She met it head on with a challenge in her own eyes. "What the hell do you want from me, Jackson?"

Ehh-hemm.

Someone cleared their throat behind her.

When Jax looked up towards the source of the latest interruption his nostrils flared.

"_Tara_."

Tara jerked away from Jax, turning her back on him.

"_Whaat?_"

Jax felt like breakdancing when he heard the venom in her voice.

"Mr. Whitman said you… he said to tell you, you could leave now."

_Why the hell is he looking at her like that?_

The sound of chair legs screeching against the cafeteria floor sounded behind them as Wendy and Ima got up from the round table they'd been sitting at.

"Guess I get to make my hair appointment after all," Jax heard Ima say.

"Not _you. _Just Tara."

"Bullshit," Wendy joined in. "If she's free why can't we leave, too?"

"You have a part-time job to get to? No? Didn't think so."

There was a pregnant pause where no one said anything. Jax just watched. His eyes darting from Tara to the douche bag jock staring at her like he was confused about something—confused and _concerned._

"Tara," Jax and David said at the same time.

"_Ugh." _

Tara didn't bother looking back at Jax. But at least he could find some small comfort in the fact that she gave David Hale the same treatment he'd gotten earlier. She shoved past him, too, kicking the cafeteria door shut behind her.

"Hhmm…the plot _thickens._"

This time Jax didn't just _think_ it. He said it out loud.

"Shut the _fuck_ up_,_ Wendy." _You're like a dog with a bone._


	7. Chapter 7

**A-NOTE: So here are the next **two** chapters. I already outline the next** four **so I'll try to get those up soon. **

**I hope**** you guys will enjoy them and & review |**each one**| so I can get a feel for how to write the next ones.**

***New Readers Hit the **FOLLOW** button so I know you're there (or better yet that you'll **continue** to be because that's always good to know.) I have a set # of chapters I'm going to write for this as of **right now*** but if the followers continues to increase I'll be delighted to keep it up beyond that set # as long as folks are being entertained by my efforts.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**P.S: |**Sarah Hale**| was a random addition that I didn't plan but when I was deciding how to write the next chapter I got an idea on how to use her to forward the **overall plot**. So be sure to give me your feedback on that, too. **

**Don't wanna get** _too_ **spoilery...but for all you fans of the **original** Fic that are a little _frustrated_ with the wait here's a little nugget especially for you: Sarah Hale plays a pretty **big **part of the |NEW YEARS EVE| debacle. And Jax and Tara aren't the** only **collateral damage. **

That's right**, folks. As our evil genius Kurt Sutter would say, the endgame is always there. It's just the path that's constantly evolving.**

ALSO**| just an FYI. I love Jax & Tara **together** as much as you guys do (and they **will** be). But I loved SOA period so I'm trying to write a story that includes **ALL** the pivotal characters: a history that explains **future** dynamics…_like Jax & David Hale's disdain for one another._**

**Teenagers. **

**Nothing to see here except 90's **teenagers…..

* * *

If there was one the thing the past twenty-four hours had taught Tara, it was that anger triumphs fatigue—_every time. _

Handsome blonde teenage boys _also_ seemed to be the trick to counteracting _fatigue _but Tara was _so _not about to analyze how she'd gone from laughter and an almost-kiss to feeling like the walking dead in a span of minutes.

She'd rushed straight from the cafeteria to the first floor restroom to change for work. She'd thrown on her black slacks, her shoes and lazily pulled her hair back into a ponytail to keep from yanking all of it out the next time it whipped her in the face.

But no matter how quickly she'd gotten ready she didn't count on David still being on campus when she pushed through the double exit doors of the school.

_Hoped_ was more like it.

She'd _hoped_ he would have the decency to leave her in peace. She'd _hoped _he'd be smart enough to realize she was running on empty and the _last _thing she needed was another bullshit heart to heart where nothing got resolved.

And she'd seen the way he looked at her when he walked in the lunch room and saw Jax gripping her in his arms. That was why she also _hoped _her boyfriend would be smart enough to know that he was already skating on the thin ice… so the last thing _he_ needed to do was give _her _the third degree about _anything._

Even if it was Jackson—_make-girls-lose-all-common sense_—Teller.

Apparently hoping… was _hopeless_.

David was leaning against the passenger side of his brother's jeep when she stepped outside.

_Thank god_ for adrenaline—her temper had her _on a roll. _She was able to ignore the screaming protest in her legs from last night's sprint across town and rushed past him.

But of course he followed her.

"Tara! Hold on a second!"

"Not _now _David," Tara said without turning back.

Then that damn football captain caught up with her in seconds. He fell in step with her in no time. And when he saw that she had no intention of stopping, he slid in front of her and started walking backwards.

"Babe." _He did _not _just babe me. _"Let me give you a ride to work. Last night you hung up so fast we didn't get a chance to talk. How are things with your dad?"

"I'm fine _walking_."

Tara chose to ignore everything else he said. As far she was concerned if he _really_ cared he would have called her back. He would have carved some time out of his busy schedule being Varsity Football star and found her during her lunch period to _talk_.

"I know you are," David said, and part of Tara found it amusing how diplomatic he was being. She knew he could tell she was dead on her feet—and that wasn't really ideal for a stroll across the town. "But I can take you," David continued. Tara narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why?" she snapped, finally coming to a stop at the end of the school parking lot. "Because your brother's not around? Where _is_ Jacob anyway?"

David scratched at a spot above his ear. "Sarah finally got in last night. _That's _why I didn't get a chance to call you back. I wasn't even _in _school today. I just showed up for practice. Coach let me go early…and I remembered you had detention today."

_The prodigal daughter has returned. _

Tara recalled how Jacob Jr. used to refer to her best friend as the _Golden child._ Whatever Sarah wanted, she got—including a pseudo-foster sister when she'd begged her mom to include Tara in everything when they were younger.

Tara knew how much the Hale's loved their daughter—_especially her father_. She knew right away David was downplaying everything. His father probably had him _and_ Junior running around with bells tied to their necks the second she showed up.

As far as excuses go, David had a good one today.

But that didn't change one very important fact…._she was sick of being a ghost._

Tara folded her arms across her chest. "You didn't answer me." When David's eyes narrowed in confusion, she added, "Where's Jacob?"

David nodded his understanding. "He's officially been appointed her chauffer until dad gets her car next week."

_Sarah's_ really_ back._

Tara didn't know what to feel and she was too tired to figure it out.

One thing that _wasn't_ difficult to interpret? Just how much of a coward her boyfriend was.

"Jake's _out of sight. _So now you're free and clear to resume your role as the doting boyfriend who cares."

"Tara—"

Tara held her hand up.

"_You know what David_? I don't just _look _tired. I _am _tired. I barely got _any_ sleep last night." Tara pointed down the block. "Right now I'm on my way to work…which is where I'll be for the next _six_ hours instead of the _four_ hour limit a minor is _supposed_ to be working because my manager's a jealous bitch who thinks fifteen year olds have nothing better to do on a school night than stock shelves. And it's not like I'm in a position to _complain_ about it! The extra money will probably come in handy when my father's bar tab burns through his next paycheck."

David's frown deepened. "Tara—"

Tara gasped. "OH! I almost forgot. My old man's check clears _today. _And that's just fuckin awesome because _now_ I'll be swimming in bourbon and dodging all the dishes being thrown at me when I'm finished making sure all the cans and boxes of Cheerios are stacked in _even rows_!"

"I didn't know it was that bad," David admitted quietly.

Tara flashed him a brittle smile. "_How could you?_ You're not around enough to ask."

"I'm sorry."

Tara shoved hard against his chest—David barely caught his balance.

"_I swear to god_ if you apologize to me _one more time_ I'm-you know what? We're not doing this now. _I'm _not doing this…because…because right now _you_ are the kind of tired laying my head on a pillow for a few hours won't remedy. I'm _exhausted _with _you. _So, please, do me a favor and just leave me the hell alone."

Tara moved to walk around him but he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, stilling her where she stood.

"You're _pissed_, Tara." David pushed the flyaway hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face, ignoring the way she turned away from his touch instead of into it. "And if I didn't know how stubborn you are I'd walk away right now. I'm not ambushing you. This isn't me trying to trap you in a car with me. I _just _want to give you a ride to work. That's it. No questions. No excuses…and no more apologies. I won't even talk. I just want to be there for you."

_Because right now it's convenient._

Tara knew David wasn't a bad guy—not even remotely. He was a typical teenage boy. They rarely knew what they wanted half the time and when they finally got it they didn't know what to do with it.

Add that to a borderline-unhealthy need to meet his parent's approval and Tara knew she was fucked before she even accepted his invite to go to the movies with him months ago.

She was doomed _years_ ago really—from the moment she'd sat in front of Chief Unser and _lied_. When she'd met David's father's eyes that night in Unser's office.

The night she'd told the cops that _Sarah_ had flirted with some random older guy to get him to buy the booze for them the night she'd overdosed. That they'd bought the Tequila with money Tara had stolen from her father's wallet. _Gemma Teller was telling the truth_, she'd told him—there _was_ no alcohol at Jax's party.

Looking in David's eyes now she could see the sincerity there. He wasn't jerking her around for the hell of it. David never once made her feel like he was _embarrassed_ by her.

They had a single obstacle to overcome—his parents. And he was trying.

But, damn it, she needed him to try _harder. _

Especially since she couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding back for another reason—one that had nothing to do with meeting the Judge's approval.

There was something he wasn't telling her.

And she didn't have the time nor the energy to play psychic.

Another thing she didn't have the energy for?

Walking all the way to work.

"Tara—"

"FINE!" Tara turned on her heel, headed towards the blue jeep parked in front of Charming High's side exit.

Again he walked ahead of her and opened the passenger side door for her.

_Always the gentleman, _Tara thought wryly.

* * *

David kept his word—he didn't say anything to Tara the whole ride there.

But when he pulled into Monroe market's parking lot, instead of dropping her off in front of the door he slid into a parking spot and pulled the keys from the ignition.

"What are you doing?"

David pulled a folded up piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "_Grocery list_. Mom's planning a welcome home dinner for Sarah."

"Of _course_ she is," Tara responded, hopping down from inside the jeep.

David walked alongside her in silence, just as he'd promised—until they reached the front entrance of the store.

"Hey, Tara," David began. _Here it comes…. _"I've been thinking—"

"TARA!"

Both David and Tara looked up to see Opie and Donna walking towards them.

Tara wondered why Donna didn't just join the cheerleading squad. That girl always had way too much pep in her step. And the fifty pounds worth of grocery bags in each of Opie's hands made him look like quite the candidate as an offensive lineman for the football team.

"Jesus, Donna. You want her to take off again," Opie commented. He gave Tara a small smile, even managing a stiff nod in David's direction.

Donna waved him off looking at Tara. "You know when Jax said you're always running I didn't think he meant that _literally_. Where the hell did you go? One minute you were there, the next _poof!_"

Tara saw the exact moment David's eyes darkened. "You were with Jax?"

Donna scoffed. "_Yeah right._ She took off before I could even get them two in the same room again. I hope today's detention went better than yesterday's. You two really need to—"

David held a hand up. And Donna immediately looked up at Opie. "_Who the hell is he? _And why does he think its okay to tell _me_ to shut up?_"_

"He didn't tell you to shut up—"

"I know what a raised hand means, Opie. I do it to _you _all the time. It means _shut up._"

Tara giggled.

Donna just might be someone she needed around—if for nothing else than a good laugh.

Tara's laughter died on her lips when she saw David's face.

"You were with Jackson yesterday?"

Tara shrugged. "We both had detention."

"And you didn't think to mention that? Is that the _real _reason you were upset when you called me last night? Did something happen with you two?"

_No._

_YES._

_I wi—NO._

_Wait, when the hell did _I _become the one in trouble?_

"Aren't you supposed to be shopping for your mother?"

David's eyes narrowed. "Aren't you supposed to be headed into work?"

Tara held out her wrist, tapping a finger to the watch wrapped around it. "I still got twenty minutes before my shift starts."

"_Seriously, _dude," Donna interrupted. "Who the hell _are _you?"

David looked over at Tara. She cocked an eyebrow at him as if to say, _go ahead. _

_Give them the _old friend_ speech you gave Elliot when he ran into us at that diner in Lodi._

"Hey, _Tara_."

When Tara looked over at Opie, the mischievous expression on his face made her ears go pink. "_Jax_ said when I saw you to tell you _he could get over the _horns _if you'd stop being a _track star…whatever the hell _that _means."

Tara fought the urge to smile—and _lost. _"I'll keep that in mind."

_Troublemaker. _

And troublemaker, he was. David looked like he wanted punch something—or someone. Tara was ready to diffuse the ticking time bomb before things got ugly…but then his face changed. All the anger melted away.

David turned his body completely to face her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand sliding to the nape of her neck. Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers. Softly, at first. But then the kiss grew urgent as he coaxed her mouth open, tangling his tongue with hers.

They were in a parking lot.

In public.

Broad afternoon daylight—where any number of town gossips could be lurking to catch the latest drama. People who would find it _very interesting_ that the Judge's son was making out with the _rumored_ reason his daughter disappeared from Charming years ago.

In a distant part of her mind, she heard Donna gasp. But she was too focused on the arm snaked so tightly around her waist it was almost constricting. And the hand gently tilting her head back.

He was kissing her like he wanted her to forget her own name. He was kissing her like she _wanted _to be kissed—without the darkness of secrecy. Without _conditions. _Without leaving _any _doubt as to how he felt about her.

David was making his feelings known for _any_ and _every _one to see. And that was _exactly _what she wanted all along.

So why the hell was she slowly, but surely getting _angry?_

Tara pulled away just as Opie cleared his throat for the third time—_okay_, maybe fourth.

"I gotta go get this stuff for my mom," David said. He brushed his hand lightly across her cheek. "I'll call you later, baby."

Once.

Twice.

He gave her a soft peck on the lips.

Then he looked over at Opie. "Jake's planning something for Sarah soon…to celebrate her coming home. You and your girl here are welcome to come. You can even bring _Jax."_

Opie's eyebrows shot north. "Yeah, _okay._"

And _that _was when Tara realized why she was pissed.

He didn't do any of that for _her._ He was sending a message via a _certain someone's_ best friend.

Lucky for him he was already too far away for Tara to shove him.

Tara _lived _for shoving people—especially narcissistic jackasses with penises.

As it turned out, she now had _two _of them to put up with.

"Oh!" Donna exclaimed suddenly. "So _that's _who he is! _David _the _secret boyfriend!"_

Tara scowled. She glared up at Opie, who was already rolling his eyes to the sky as if he was thinking _why me? _

"Is there _anything_ you _don't_ tell your girlfriend?" Tara snapped.

"Nope."

Donna's smile couldn't have been smugger. She shook her head at Tara. "_Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. _A secret boyfriend with a spoiled princess for a younger sister _and _a biker prince with more pride than he can fit inside his big ass head...Did you ever consider falling for someone _less _complicated?"

_Grrrrrrrr_. "How many times do I have to say it? I _do not _like Jackson! We're—"

"—friends?" Donna interjected. "_Right. _Yesterday you hated him and now your friends. And tomor—_wait a minute_. Did you just _growl _at me?"

Opie was laughing so hard, he dropped two of the assortment of bags in his hand.

"I'm walking away now," Tara said.

And she did just that.

Odds were high that the half-giant teenage boy laughing behind her was going to make her commit felony murder—when she hotwired someone's car in the parking lot just to run his ass over with it.

"Stop by Opie's after work if you're not too tired!" Donna yelled at her retreating back. "I'm making him dinner tonight!"

_One last supper before I kill him?_

"Good!" Tara tossed over her shoulder without looking back. "Maybe if his mouth is stuffed he won't have time to be blabbing about shit that doesn't concern him…_or _you!"

"Did she just—"

Donna's question was cut off as the glass double doors slide shut behind her. And Tara was happier for it. She would stock shelves for twelve hours straight if it meant avoiding her next door neighbor's pushy girlfriend.

Donna Lewis.

How could anybody call _Tara_ a know-it-all with that chick adding her two cents into every damn thing?

And she _did not _like Jax.

She didn't _want _to like him.

And Tara Knowles _never_ did what she didn't want to do.

Nope.


	8. Chapter 8

Gemma Teller had been wiping down the same section of the countertop for the past ten minutes. Jax was sitting all the way on the other end of the bar. She watched him through the corner of her eye. She was trying to get a read on him—figure out if he was still angry about last night.

But Jackson was too much like his father—_you could never see what they didn't want to show you._

Wendy was turning out to be a lot more useful than Gemma had originally thought. The girl had her issues, but she was a quick study on how things worked in the Outlaw world of _SAMCRO._ Gemma Teller may not have been a patched member of the SONS. But her position as Old Lady to Redwood Original's President was a position of power. The matriarch was due a certain level of respect.

Whatever her faults, Wendy Case got the picture—while none of Jax's other playthings did.

_Especially _Tara Knowles.

And even worst still, Tara was never even a plaything.

They were _friends._

That girl had been a thorn in Gemma's side ever since she gave Jackson the chicken pox when they were kids. She was always around, always had her son's ear—and that was a big problem.

And now they were reconnecting.

She had to find a way to put a stop to it before Typhoid Tara poisoned her son to the only family he'd _ever_ feel at home with.

Gemma knew exactly what Tara thought of SAMCRO—that's why little miss Tara had to _go._

* * *

Jackson Teller thought his mother was _annoying _just like every other teenage boy.

She was pushy, overbearing, hypocritical—_always_ meddling.

I did it because _I love you_.

I lied to you _for your own good. _

If I let you do that in the end _it would break your heart._

_Mothers_.

They had a reason for every action they took—for every role they played in their sons lives.

Gemma Teller justified _everything _she did—_good_ or _bad_—by saying it was done out of love.

And like most teenage boys, Jackson came to accept it. He loved his mother wholeheartedly—flaws and all.

But that didn't mean he couldn't hate her every once in a while.

Like now, while she stood there pretending to clean…with the most calculating look on her face.

Jackson wondered why she even bothered keeping up the pretense. The countertop was spotless twenty minutes ago. The Club had made their newest prospect (read: bitch boy) Kyle Hobart clean the entire clubhouse top to bottom.

She wasn't there to clean. She was there because she had something she wanted to say to him. And if her hesitation was any indication it was a conversation she _knew_ he wanted no part of.

That was why Judge Jacob Hale was a welcome distraction. Even if Jax knew he'd probably be tempted to bash his face in the second he walked through the clubhouse doors.

"Hey, Ma," Jax said, nodding his head towards the open bar doors. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence."

"I wonder what this asshole wants," Gemma mumbled as Jacob Hale walked through the doors.

"_His honor Judge Jacob Hale presiding_," Jax mocked from the stool where he sat. "You lost old man?"

Judge Hale looked at Gemma as if he need to confirm what he was seeing.

Jax took another swig of the beer in his hand. Then—just for the Judges benefit—he walked around the bar, grabbed a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey from the top shelf.

Knocking the first shot back, he poured another. He let out an over the top _Ahhh _of satisfaction as the dark liquid slid down his throat.

The judge straightened his freshly starched tie. "I see you're parenting skills haven't changed much, Gemma…you still think minors and alcohol go together."

_If this asshole thinks he can come in here and harass my mother he's out of his goddamn mind._

"Hey _shithead!_" Jax said, snapping his fingers. "I have _one _father. He wears a Kutte and rides a Harley. _He's_ the only one allowed to hold a gavel _in here_. So if you know what _I _know you'll save your judgments for the courthouse."

"You listen to me you little _delinquent_—,"

"What do you want Jacob?" Gemma intervened.

Jax wasn't about to listen to _shit_. What he was _about to do _is get himself sent to Juvenile Hall.

Reluctantly, Jacob turned to face the Matriarch. "I came here for Lowell. He's the best mechanic in town…even if his place of employment is run by _criminals_."

Gemma folded her arms across her chest. "The garage is on the other side of the lot. We're gonna try this one more time before I have to get the club involved. What are you doing _here_?"

"It may not be my business how you people raise your children. But it _is _my business how I raise _my _children," he huffed. Then the judge turned to glare over at Jax. "I'm here to make myself clear. I want _you _and _your family_ to stay the hell away from my daughter. You understand me, Teller?"

Jax sat the beer in his hand on the counter. "What the hell are you talking about?"

What the hell was this man talking about?

It couldn't be Tara.

Shit went south weeks after Tara had confided in him about the adoption papers she'd found in their house years ago.

Her and Sarah were finally going to get their wish. To become sisters—legally. Or at least that was what Gloria Hale intended. Tara had been worried about her father. Worried about him being on his own. _And _worried there wasn't a chance in hell he'd go along with it.

In the end she didn't have anything to worry about anymore.

The Hales shut her out just as soon as their sent their _real _daughter away.

Was he talking about Tara?

Was all forgiven? Had the Hale's finally decided to let the girl they abandoned back into the fold?

_Maybe _that's _why that douche bag Hale was looking at her like that earlier, _Jax thought. _Father Hale wouldn't approve of her fraternizing with the enemy… _again.

Jax hoped Tara wasn't being pulled back into their family drama. She deserved better than someone who would cast her aside after one mistake.

After a mistake she'd made to protect someone—to protect _him. _

While Jax's mind was spinning with how the Hale's could affect him and Tara _again _his mother had reached a different conclusion.

Gemma's eyes widened. "So you're finally ready to stop hiding Princess Fuck-up from all your constituents. _Hmm_…that must have been one hell of a reform school you sent her to."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about, _bitch_," Hale snapped.

Jax jumped up, the stool he'd been sitting crashing to the floor behind him.

Gemma grabbed him by the back of his white-and-blue |SONS| T-shirt, and yanked him backwards. She put a hand on his shoulder, gripping. Her other hand flew to her hip, a wicked smile on her face.

"What I _know_ is that the Club has one _hell of a lawyer_. The kind of legal representation that'll probably get Jackson out of any _real _time he'd do for beating the shit out of a county Judge," Gemma threatened. "What I _know _is my son's a lot like his father. He's not afraid of handcuffs or _paper-pushing thugs_ who think they're better than everyone else because they have degrees hanging up on their walls. And you want to know _what else _I know? I know you got about ten seconds before I let my son rearrange your face with his fists. So if I were you, I'd _get the fuck out._"

Judge Hale pointed a finger at Jax. "I mean what I said, boy. Stay away from Sarah."

Then he stormed off towards the garage.

"I can't _stand_ that asshole… or his douche bag son," Jax lamented.

"I know, _baby_," Gemma agreed. Then she smirked. "But if I remember correctly his daughter didn't seem to bother you _at all._"

"Nope" Jax polished off the bottle he'd abandoned on the counter. "Sarah always kept things interesting."

"That man is delusional. That Hale girl was the one chasing _you_ around. She was like a dog with a bone. He needs to give _her _the speech about steering clear."

"_Yeah_." Jax nodded. He sat down on one of the lounge chairs, leaning his head back against the leather cushion. Gemma sat beside him, raked a freshly manicured hand through her sons slicked back hair. She started drumming a massage against his scalp the way she used to do when she read him his bedtime story when Jax was younger.

Jax shut his eyes against the sensation, settling into it—letting her do the _comforting mother_ thing he couldn't seem to get her out of—no matter how much he complained about it.

Jackson Teller loved his mother—flaws and all.

And he could never seem to stay mad at her…._even when she _really _deserved it._

"How many days of detention you got left?" Gemma said.

"Tomorrow's supposed to be my last day," Jax answered, his eyes still closed.

"_Good. _I talked to Lowell. He agreed to let you work with him on the Panhead that just came in. Said he'll show you the ropes. But you'll do it on _your own time._ That means you need to be here early after school so you and Opie can finish your work first."

Jax's face lit up with the infamous Lady Killer smile, but his eyes were still closed.

"JT said I could get my own bike as soon as I know how to maintain it myself," Jax gushed.

At least he still had one thing to look forward—his _first _ride. His father wouldn't ruin _that much _at least.

Gemma beamed at her son.

Jax swore he could _feel_ it without even looking at her. "You watch Lowell closely and you'll be riding solo in no time, baby…. _Shit. _You're already a skirt-chasing little asshole. Wait until you get your Harley. I'll be beating them off you with a stick."

Jax chuckled. "Come on, Ma. You know I don't chase after _anyone. _And besides…I don't need the Kutte or a bike to hook em'. All I need is the _Teller Charm._"

He could feel it the second her fingers stopped moving against his scalp.

Jax opened his eyes, turning to face her just as the calculating look she'd worn before slid in place of the proud smile she had seconds ago.

"_What?_"

Gemma looked her son in the eye, steeling him with her hawk-like gaze. "Speaking of Teller Charm…I heard you and Tara Knowles are getting friendly again."

Jax moved to jump up from the couch, but Gemma's hand gently pushed against his chest, stilling him.

"Relax, Jackson," Gemma urged. "I'm not accusing you of any—"

"_Good. _Because you're the last person that _should _be making _any _accusations."

How had she done it? His mother _clearly_ had a gift.

She could make a man go from content to pissed-off in zero to sixty.

"Are you two…I just want to know—,"

_I don't know _what _we are._

"Why the hell do you care? Afraid your husband might have to _threaten_ her again?"

"Jackson—"

Jax flung her hand off his chest, jumping up from the couch. "You want to know something _Gemma?_ You really need to find some friends your own age too shoot the shit with instead of gossiping with sixteen year old girls who don't even know what the hell they're talking about!"

"Wendy said she saw you with her and you were—"

"Wendy comes home with _me _every night. And when I'm done with her I kick her ass out the next morning just like I'd do any other girl—"

"—any other girl like _Tara_?—"

"—so what the hell makes you think I give a shit what Wendy says about _anything_? I _love_ her mouth, Ma but talking's not what she usually does with it when I'm around."

Jackson knew he sounded like a grade-A dickhead even as the words flew off his tongue. But what was he supposed to do?

That damn girl was always opening her mouth. Why would she go running to his mom about _Tara_? For someone who claimed to know what she meant to him, Wendy seemed determined to fuck with his life.

Running people off was Gemma Teller's _specialty_. Part of Jax even wondered if _she _was the reason JT was shutting them out.

And if she kept this up she wouldn't have to chase _Wendy_ away.

_He'd_ be the one doing the chasing.

"You could spew venom all you want. I can see through the bullshit. I know you care about her so don't—"

"OF COURSE I CARE ABOUT HER!" Jax yelled in frustration. "I never _stopped_ caring about her! Not even when she hated me for what _you _did to her."

It was a rare sight to be seen.

Jax couldn't remember the last time he'd shocked his mother into shutting her damn mouth.

The magic didn't last long though.

"I was talking about _Wendy_," Gemma deadpanned. _Gotcha_, her tone said.

"_What?"_

"I meant…I knew you cared about _Wendy._"

Realizing his mistake, Jax squared his shoulders. "I _do _care about Wendy."

Gemma nodded. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder she said, "I know, baby..." _You're just not in love with her._

She didn't have to finish her sentence. Jax knew his mother. Melodramatic for NO reason _as usual._

He never hid the fact that he cared about Tara. But he wasn't about to go near the 'L' word with a ten-foot pole.

Only a fool would even _consider_ falling for someone that he knew would never stick around.

He could see it her eyes, always, whenever she looked at him. He could recall how those emerald gems would sparkle every time she'd go on and on about her mom's hometown in Chicago. When she'd gush about how nice the city life sounded. How her mother had promised to take her before she'd gotten sick.

Tara wanted more out of life than the small-town of Charming, California had to offer her.

Tara Knowles was beautiful, a free spirit—like a butterfly.

And they always flew away eventually.

They moved on.

And Jax's life was and always _would be _exactly where he stood.

Club Reaper. _SAMCRO. _A man of Mayhem.

Jackson Teller was smarter than his mother gave him credit for. He knew better than to set himself for heartbreak.

Jax and Tara were _friends. _

She was just a pretty girl he liked to flirt with on occasion. And no one could fault him for that.

He had a _penis _for crying out loud. It wasn't love—it was _biology_.

"Look, ma," Jax said, sighing. "Tara and I are _friends. _At least until she finds a reason to shut me out tomorrow or the next week. I'm too young to be caught up in _any _girl. Especially one that could never understand the life I'll always be a part of. Stop fussing over me. _Please. _Give it a rest already."

"Okay, Jackson." Gemma's hands were in his hair again. "Just as long as you remember she doesn't _have_ to understand. And you don't owe _anyone _an explanation or apology for living your life."

Jax nodded stiffly. "So you're gonna leave her alone?"

Gemma scoffed. Walking back towards the bar she said, "_Yes_, Jackson. I'll steer clear of her. What did you think I was going to do anyway? _Kill her_?"

"I doubt you're _that_ nuts," Jax half-joked. But there was a coldness in the pit of stomach at the mere thought of that.

It was _irrational _and completely off base.

So he pushed the fear of his mother's boundaries—or lack of—and shot a sly smile his mother's way. "I figured you'd just head over to _Monroe Market _to buy ingredients for the pancake breakfast you planned in your head the _second_ Wendy told you Tara _sneezed_ in my direction."

Gemma balled up the dishrag on the counter, launching it at her son.

"Quit thinking you're psychic, you little shithead."

Jax hit the nail on the head and he _knew _it. One of these days _taking things into her own hands _was gonna bite his mother in the ass.

But Gemma had always been this way. And as irritating as she was…at least _she _hadn't changed.

The man rounding the corner, coming from one of the back dorm rooms, however…

He may has well have been a stranger.

"Hey, Son," Johnathan Teller said quietly.

Zero to sixty all over again.

But this time instead of anger all Jackson felt was depression. His old man was starting to rub off on him.

He needed to get the hell away from him before booked his own trip to the land of Whiskey and potatoes.

"I'll see you later, Ma."

"_Son_, we need to talk," JT said to Jax's back.

Jax turned around. "The last time I tried that I got punched in the face."

"_Jackson_!" Gemma scolded.

"its fine, Gem," JT said.

"_No." _Jax seethed. "It's _not._ And that's the problem."

"You need to hear him out, Jack—"

"I was supposed to meet up with Wendy half an hour ago. I'm _late."_

Gemma shook her head. "Wendy's in Tijuana with her cousin hunting down her mother…how'd you plan on getting there? You own a jet I don't know about?"

Jax just shrugged. "Have it your way, _Gem._ I was just trying to spare his feelings."

_Which is more than he's done for us. He doesn't give a _shit _how we feel about him shutting _us _out._

Jax turned away. And he saw Opie walking towards him.

"You're just in time, bro," Jax said. His smile was actually genuine despite the tension in the room.

Tension that his best friend knew to ignore.

"Donna's making me _dinner_." Opie wriggled his eyebrows. "She told me to invite you to join. She's trying to show off all the skills her grandma taught her when she worked at her restaurant over the summer."

"You got a good one, Opie," Gemma commented. "I bet she'd make a fine _Old Lady _someday."

"They're a little too young to be thinking about any of that, Gem," JT interjected. "All in due time, kids." Then he winked at Opie.

Opie offered him a small smile before looking at Jax.

His best friend looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"What?" Opie dared asking.

"_I swear he's like a fuckin fortune cookie_," Jax mumbled, loud enough for only Opie to hear. "I'll see you later, _Gem," _Jax added louder.

Then he walked off, never looking back… because _why should he? _

When he needed him all he ever saw was his father's back—either that or an empty chair at the head of the dining room table.

* * *

They were half-way across the lot when Jax couldn't help himself.

"So how often does Tara come over your place anyway?" he blurted out.

Opie snickered.

"Your _track star_ is at work until closing time. Me and Donna saw her earlier and she looked like a zombie before her shift even _started_. It's probably gonna be just us _three_ tonight."

Jax punched Opie in his side just as they reached his Old man Piney's pickup truck.

"She's not _my_ track star."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm _serious_, bro. She's not _my _anything."

They both climbed inside of the truck. Then _almost_ as an afterthought, Jax used his most _I'm bored _tone of voice when adding, "Besides I'm pretty sure she has a boyfriend. I wonder who it is…probably that band geek always offering to walk her to class. If it _is _she could do better than _that _pizza-faced idiot. He rides a bike to school. An actual _bike. _With a _chain_ not an engine."

"I called your house this morning, you know," Opie said, laughing. "Gemma told me you were nursing a hangover after you got into it with your Old man last night. She said she wasn't dropping you off at my house for school today."

Jax shrugged, pulling a cigarette from the carton on the dashboard of the truck. "_So what_?"

Opie twisted the keys in the truck's ignition. "_Soo…._You didn't make it to any of your classes today…_Gemma gave you a pass_."

"She's bound to do it every once in a blue." Jax blew smoke through his nose, passing the cigarette to his friend.

"Well if you got a pass on school why did you show up _just_ for detention?"

Jax jerked around to face his best friend since the sandbox. Fixing a glare on Opie's smug expression, he snapped. "What the fuck is _this _shit? I thought I left the Question_ Queen_ back at the clubhouse."

Opie chuckled. "Ahhh, man! My life would be _so_ much easier if I could get my _girlfriend _to answer my questions, too."

"I ain't answer you _shit._" Jax snatched the cigarette from his hand.

"Of course you did," Opie taunted. "And you did it without even meaning to."

"Fuck _you_."

"You sure you and Tara don't share the same brain?"

"We probably share the same desire to punch you in the throat."

Opie laughed harder still. "Yu-_uup_."


	9. Chapter 9

**QUICK NOTE:**

Someone who reviewed as a **[guest]** commented that they were confused about the "adoption" mentioned in **chapter 8**. I amended** the little part I accidentally left out so you can go back & read it if you wish. I plan to touch on that further later on in the story any way. Judge Hale is a pretty awful guy where my fanfic is concerned lol.

|**FOLLOW**|the story if you haven't already people. And I _love _feedback so don't be shy about reviewing either.

Other than that…. I just hope you enjoy.

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**P.S **This |**NEXT CHAPTER**| is another background heavy one but NO WORRIES. This is just me establishing Sarah Hale before I get back to the Jax & Tara bicker-banter dance :)

Sarah Hale is very important to my version of how Tara & Jax end up together & _stronger than ever. _Believe it or not so is her brother David.

_Hmmm…_

**I'm always & **forever** Team |"Track star" & Biker Prince| so chin up! Don't doubt me now, peeps.**

* * *

Three hours down.

Three more to go.

Tara's arms felt like spaghetti from all the boxes and cans.

Lift and carry.

Shelve, restock.

Open package, sort and stack.

It was tedious and never-ending. When she walked it felt like someone slipped blocks of lead inside each of her shoes. And she was pretty sure the back and forth between the walk-in freezer's zero degree temperature and the lack of AC in the back warehouse was going to make her sick.

Every time she thought of saying '_fuck it_' and walking out she remembered why she needed a job in the first place. Unlike most teenagers it wasn't because her parents thought she should learn some responsibility. It wasn't because she wanted a little extra cash so she could go out and hang with her friends. Working was necessary for survival. She didn't _want _a part-time job—she _needed _it.

And Karen Monroe, the Head Manager _knew_ that.

She also knew her boyfriend Elliot helped Tara get the job. That's why she went out of her way to make Monroe Market's newest employee jump through hoops.

Tara couldn't _wait_ for her to leave the store in the evenings. And half way through Tara's shift she always did. That was usually when the assistant manager, Keith gave her a moment to catch her breath.

Today was no different.

"_Tara, doll_!"

Whenever he said her name it made her skin crawl a little.

Tara looked up from the spot on the ground she'd been absently staring at for the past five minutes.

"Huh?"

Keith pulled the cap off of his head, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his employee uniform. Squinting over at her from outside of the elevated warehouse doors he said, "You still got three more hours of this and you look like you're gonna pass out." Keith looked at his watch. "You're due for your break. _Thirty minutes._"

Normally Tara would head straight for the employee's locker room and cram as much homework as possible into the half an hour window. Instead of getting up she continued to sit on the box she was _supposed_ to have opened ten minutes ago. Through the corner of her eye she could see Keith leering at her. She was way too tired to be grossed out about it.

"I'll tell you what, honey…if you _promise_ not to tell Karen I'll tack on an extra fifteen minutes _just for you_. You should head over to that diner across the street. Get yourself a cup of coffee…or _four._ Just remember to bring me back a cup."

Tara summoned the strength to get up. "How do you want it?" she asked, already walking off.

"Black as _them shorts you got on_…"

He couldn't see her when she wrinkled her nose. "Sugar?"

"I want it just as sweet as _you _are, Darlin'."

_Ugh._

Tara quickly headed to the other side of lot before she could give into temptation and tell off the _only_ co-worker she had that didn't make her miserable—even if he was a pervert.

* * *

The bells above the diner's door barely finished ringing when Tara opened it before the _screeching _began.

"_LADY TEE!_"

Tara turned to her left just in time to see Sarah Hale barreling into her, flinging her arms around her neck.

_She's baaack._

"Oh my god! Oh my _fuckin_ god! _Look_ at _you!_" Sarah walked a circle around Tara appraising her from head to toe. "No _wonder…_"

"No wonder _what_?"

Sarah's grey eyes sparkled with mischief. She had the same look that always manifested whenever Tara asked her something she had no intention of answering truthfully—or _at all._

"_Sit_!" Sarah grabbed a hold of the off-guard brunette's arm and pulled her into the nearest booth, sitting down across from her. As soon as they were seated the waitress brought over Tara's regular order without even asking.

She asked Sarah if she wanted anything before walking back behind the counter.

Sarah flipped her long honey-blonde curls over her shoulders.

Tara's eyes widened. "You got the tattoo you wanted!" Tara exclaimed zeroing in on the butterfly engraved along her collarbone.

"Hell yeah, I did! My mother wanted to _kill me_ when she saw it but _then_ she found out Jake knocked that Carlie whore up and ever since then _he's _been the one in the hot seat!"

Tara giggled. "When were you _ever_ in the hot seat for anything?"

"_Oh shut up_! Don't let me find out Jake wasn't the _only_ one calling me the Golden Child." Sarah reached across the table, lightly yanking Tara's already loose ponytail. "You look exhausted, _Tee_," Sarah said. "Is _Arthur_ keeping you up? I could ask my mom if—"

"I'm _fine_! My dad's fine! We're both fine!" Tara answered quickly.

Sarah frowned. "What's going on?"

Tara chewed her bottom lip.

Part of her was happy to have her friend back, someone to confide in again.

But the other part felt almost as if she was sitting across from a stranger.

She couldn't shake the feeling that things were different now even if they seemed to be the same as before. _Sure_, Sarah was still a honey-blonde ball of energy. She was _still _daddy's little princess. And she was still the girl who was always ready to be her shoulder to cry—her escape from her father…_if_ she needed it.

A couple years back she _did_. But ever since Opie reached out she'd managed without the Hales—without _any _of them.

Intuition was telling her to keep it that way.

"Things are actually better at home," Tara lied. "I'm just a little burned out. It's gonna take some getting used to now that I'm working part-time _and_ going to school."

Needing something to do Tara brought the steaming mug in her hand to her lips and sipped it.

"_Yikes_." Sarah winced. "You're working after school? How the hell are you gonna find time for cheerleading?"

Tara choked on her coffee. Clearing the tears from her eyes, she gawked at her childhood best friend. "_Cheerleading?"_

"_Duh_! We both said we'd try out for the team our freshman year, remember? Obviously we couldn't before, and I know you were too big of a _chicken_ to do it without me _but I'm back now_!"

Tara's eyes were big as saucers again. "You're enrolling at Charming High?"

Sarah winked. "Already done, Tee. Daddy sent _Davey _to sign me up this afternoon."

_So much for him _remembering _I had detention._

_Lying JACKASS. _

"You're _really _back," Tara half-whispered.

Sarah giggled. "Aren't you _happy_? We get to spend the next three years making up for lost time! Dance team! Drama club! Pep squad! _I can't wait!"_

"_Year _and a half," Tara corrected, smiling. "And I don't know about the cheerleading but I am glad you're back, '_Rah_."

Sarah scrunched her eyebrows together. "_Year and a half_? What did you skip a grade while I was gone or something?"

Tara fixed her eyes on the mug in front of her. "I took some extra classes last year…the less time at home the better ya know?"

_Wasn't I supposed to be pretending things were good at home?_

"Anyway," Tara continued, "I took a few college courses _too_ over at community—"

"—I guess Mrs. Oswald still has a soft spot for you."

Tara nodded. "Yeah...I'm taking some extra courses this winter too & if they let me this summer. If I maintain my GPA…_I could graduate early_**."**

Sarah whistled. "_Damn_ girl. At least I know _you_ haven't changed. You're still the _brains _of this dynamic duo."

Tara chuckled. "Yeah and you're still the _beauty_…"

Sarah cocked her head to the side. Tara had to fight against fidgeting as her grey eyes studied her. "I don't know, Tara. These days you kinda got the whole Snow White thing going for you…you know, if you could look beyond the bad dye job."

Unconsciously, Tara patted her hair. "I didn't _dye_ my hair."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "_Really? _I remember your hair being darker."

"Sunlight I guess." Tara shrugged.

Sarah scoffed. "How? When are you _ever_ outside to stand in it? You're probably always in the library. Or at home reading a book."

"Well reading was something we both have in common." Tara grinned. "Especially Roald Dahl."

"That was when we were _eight._" Sarah rolled her eyes. "Things change…well _I _have any way. I see you're still intent on being better than everyone."

_Where the fuck did _that _come from?_

Tara's thoughts were clearly reflected on her face because Sarah reached for her hand on the table. "_Hey. _I never said it was a_ bad_ thing. _It's good you want to be great._"

Tara's frown disappeared but her earlier smile didn't resurface. "_I want to make it the hell out of Charming_. My mom moved here for _my dad_. I don't think I'm meant for small town life. I just need to better myself so that I'll _be_ better off. I won't turn into my dad. And I don't want to settle like my mom did either."

"You won't, Lady Tee," Sarah encouraged. "You're _gonna kick ass_. A high powered defense attorney _or_ you can run for office, defend all the little people."

Tara giggled. "I was actually think I'd do something in the medical field."

"_Oooh_. Now you're talking. You should be a plastic surgeon." Sarah leaned across the table, shaking her chest. "Then you can do my boob job pro-bono."

Tara laughed, shaking her head. "Pro-bono surgery isn't for elective procedures, dork."

Sarah rolled her eyes, her grey eyes steeled. "Maybe you should just be a professor. That way you can get paid to correct people all the time."

_Seriously, What the _Hell_?_

Sarah phone buzzed before Tara could form a response.

Looking down at the screen, Sarah stood up. "I gotta go. Mom's planning this _welcome home dinner _for me and I'll never hear the end of it if I don't show up."

_Maybe it's family shit that's triggering the Bitchy mood swings._

"Enjoy." Tara picked up her mug and raised it to her.

Sarah looked up from her phone. "Maybe I'll drop by your place after. I can sleep over. We'll go to school together. _Like old times_."

Then she walked off before Tara could figure out how to tell her she might not even _make it _to school tomorrow with the way she was feeling.

Tara shook her head, taking another sip of the _now_ Luke-warm caffeine when the bells on the door jingled again.

"_Tara?_"

Tara whipped around at the sound of Sarah's voice.

"Hmm?"

"_My brother's being a jackass. _My parents never blamed _you. _My dad was _hurt _ but he forgave you a long time ago…so I don't know what bullshit excuse he gave you, but you shouldn't let him get away with it. _You're better than that, _Tee."

Tara smiled over at her, nodding her head once. Sarah gave her, her signature _wink._

And then she strutted off—in the _opposite_ direction of her brothers awaiting car—where Jacob Jr. sat behind the wheel with an irritated look on his face.

_Good to see _you _haven't changed either, Sarah._

_You still like torturing your older brother's._

_And you still have no idea_ _who your father _really_ is._

* * *

All the aisles were clear and the shelves were as stocked as they were going to get. Tara closed out the final cash register, then headed straight to her locker to grab her things.

"Good night, Keith!" She yelled out in no particular direction. Mr. McPervy was somewhere in the empty store. Her calling out to him would have to do because she was not about to look for him.

When Tara finally walked through those sliding glass doors, she welcomed the toasty feeling of the humidity on her skin after spending all day working with the air conditioning cranked up high.

Free at last.

And with one hell of a hike ahead of her.

Times like this, Tara wished she wasn't so damn stubborn.

Her father was _most definitely_ too drunk to pick her up (not that she'd ask), asking Opie for a ride meant dealing with his girlfriend, and she refused to call David because he was a lying jackass.

That left her walking—walking home.

Because apparently she wasn't too tired to say _fuck that!_ to asking anyone for help.

Tara was three blocks up before a familiar car slowed on the other side of the street.

She saw the exact moment he spotted her walking—David made a quick U-turn, circling back to her side of street before jumping from his brother's jeep.

"Tara!"

David caught up with her in seconds—not that it took much effort with the speed she was walking—or better yet, lack of speed.

"I'm sorry"—_as usual_—"I lost track of time!"

_Whatever_. "I thought you said to call you when I was ready for you to pick me up after work," Tara commented dryly.

"I _did_. And you never called."

"That should have told you something."

"Tara—"

Tara whipped around to face him. She almost laughed when he instinctively backed up.

_I must look as pissed off as I feel….GOOD._

"You _remembered_ I had detention?" She waited for the accusation to sink in. Understanding registered in his eyes before she shook her head at him. "Even your own sister is telling me not to put up with your shit."

"You saw Sarah?" David looked like he might actually throw up.

Tara chuckled bitterly. "Goodbye, David."

"Wait," he said grabbing her arm.

Tara jerked away violently, shaking his hand off. "WHAT?"

"What did she say to you? Did she tell—"

"She didn't have to say _anything_," Tara snapped. She took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves—_it didn't work_ and before she knew it she was _screaming_. "Almost _five_ months we've been together and you didn't want _anybody_ to know... I thought it was because of your parents…be-because of what they might say if they found out Little Davey was dating that deadbeat drunk's daughter…Or maybe they were still pissed because I didn't help them put Jax's mom in jail for what happened to Sarah… So imagine my surprise when I hear from Sarah herself that your parents never blamed me in the first place."

"I never said—you just assumed—"

"Well _forgive me_ if I have to make assumptions about all the shit that you won't tell me! All you ever do is change the subject. _I'm done letting you_!"

"Tara, listen to—"

"—and _what the hell was that_ with Opie today, huh?" Tara's eyes narrowed to slits. She spoke through her teeth. "We can't be together 'in public' but it's okay for you to grab my ass and shove your tongue down my throat in a parking lot. Calling me _baby_ was a nice touch, by the way. I guess this whole secrecy thing only applies when you're not feeling _threatened_."

"I'm _always_ feeling threatened, Tara!"

_Ughh._ "I am going to say this one. More. Time. There is nothing between me and Jack—"

"—it's not about _him_!"

"Then what the hell is it about, David? _What the hell is wrong with you?_"

David's mouth opened and closed—like a fuckin Muppet.

_I'm so done with this shit_.

"I've let you get away with this for so long because I felt guilty." Tara threw her arms, dropping them to her sides. "I'm done feeling guilty about anything."

Tara moved to cross the street when David's voice rang out behind her.

It was quiet, soft—almost like he didn't want her to hear him.

"You're not the only one that feels guilty, Tara… but unlike you I actually have a reason to be."

She could hear the fear in his voice. What the hell was he afraid of? And hadn't she given him enough time to come clean?

Tara was done waiting for him to open up.

This was it.

The final straw.

Tara stopped walking—but she didn't turn to face him again. "What are you talking about, David?"

"It was my fault."

Enough with the fuckin half-answers. "What was?" she asked, her voice hard as steel.

"_I'm the reason they didn't go through with the adoption_."

Of all the things she'd thought he might say, the words David spoke never once crossed her mind. Tara turned around slowly to face him—and when she did, the tidal wave of emotion on his face made her chest tighten.

The walls—they were finally down.

She could see the truth in his eyes—the stress, the guilt, the fear. Every emotion he'd been hiding was staring her right in the face. Tara had thought she was tired, but looking at him she knew her lack of sleep didn't compare to the exhaustion David felt.

Is this the reason he'd been hiding her from his family?

Because he was afraid that one of them would tell something she _already knew? _She'd known it years before. She'd spent a long time wondering if it was because he hated her as much as his _father _Judge Hale did.

She'd known a long time ago that David had been the one child who told Gloria Hale he didn't want her to pursue custody of Tara.

The only thing she never knew was _why._

Looking in his eyes, Tara knew in her heart, that whatever his reason was, it weighed down on him heavily. It made him anxious—terrified him even. Because whatever it was, it was clear to her that he didn't think she'd forgive him for it.

Part of her felt bad playing stupid—but she didn't have a choice. She'd kept the charade going _this _long.

"You knew about the adoption?"

David looked over towards the other side of the street. "Sarah was your best friend for years...you see her the same way I do. She's a spoiled brat. She's daddy's little girl… …and normally she gets _whatever_ she wants no matter what. Me and Jake, we always come second…but my parents…they may not act like it all the time but they love their sons just as much. They care about what we want...and when my mom convinced my dad… they asked us how we felt about it…a-and I told them I didn't want you to be a part of the family."

Moments passed before either of them said anything.

"_Why?_" Tara finally asked. She hadn't realize she was crying until she heard the crack in her own voice.

David looked as anxious as she _felt_.

Tara's heart was racing.

"I swear to _God_, Tara, I had no idea things were that bad with your father…I just—I thought—Sarah always said you were—I just…_Damn it!_ I'm really gonna lose you... For real this time."

"_Why?_" Tara choked out again, wiping the steady stream of tears clouding her vision.

"…Opie's dad was always looking out for you…and he was _right_ next door. I thought he'd be there for you the way your mom was there for him when Opie's mother left."

"David—"

He wasn't even listening to her anymore. He was caught up in his own head, pacing back and forth. "It was _selfish_…I didn't think about what _you_ wanted…It was all about me…about how _I _felt…never mind if you _needed_ us…I didn't care if you wanted to be a part of the family…"

"David—"

"… and what was the point? In the end I lose anyway…you're never going to—"

"DAVID!"

David stopped pacing. Dejected eyes met with watery, green ones.

"_Tell me_," Tara said. It was practically a plea. "I need you to tell me why...Why didn't you want me to be a part of your family?"

If they were at a party, both the crowd and the music would have faded out.

If they were on a stage, the curtain would have risen, and the only light would be on the spot where he stood.

He was coming clean—and when he did neither of them could ever turn back.

"I couldn't be in love with my _sister_."

Tara's breath hitched, her heart pounded against her ribs.

"I'm in love with you, Tara," David confessed. "_I always have been_."

This moment—right here and now—was what she'd wanted all along. Tara always thought she would feel weightless when she finally heard the words every teenage girl wanted to hear.

She kept waiting for the joy. The ecstasy.

Instead all she felt was _guilt_.

He loved her _now. _But would he still love her once he found out the truth about _his_ father? What he did to her? Would Jacob Hale's doting son still choose _her _then?

Tara had been such a hypocrite, all this time—lying to everyone, including Jax.

_Jax. _

Jackson Teller: the friend who always meant just a _little more _to her than either of them wanted to admit.

She could never tell David the truth about Judge Hale, but Jax was the one thing she _could_ fix.

Tara knew how her and Jax looked to other people. What almost happened in detention earlier was a perfect example. David might not want to admit it but she knew in her heart that Jax was _another_ reason he'd been so hesitant to tell her how he felt.

_"….I bet you Hale will grow some balls when he realizes you might choose Jax over him _again_."_

Opie was right. And she couldn't even say David's worries were irrational. Tara Knowles and Jackson Teller had been doing the will they or won't they dance since they were old enough to know the opposite sex didn't really have cooties.

But things would _never _work out between her and Jax. The younger biker prince was being groomed for a life she'd _never_ want to be a part of. And in the end he'd probably just break her heart, whether it was intentional or collateral damage. All they had was white-hot _chemistry_—and the thrill of going after something you know you couldn't have.

Tara was done risking her relationship.

"Things with my dad are okay," Tara lied. What was one more half-truth? Things _were _okay. It was like David said, she had _Opie. _"All that stuff I said back at school? I was just saying that because I was angry. I wanted to make you feel bad."

"I _already_ feel bad."

Tara moved closer to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "You don't _have _to. I'm not mad anymore….and I never want you to feel guilty for loving me."

David moved closer, still. "I _do _love you, Tara," he said, hazel eyes searching. Tara knew what he was waiting for.

But that was the _one _lie she refused to tell him.

Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her body melting into his. Tara tilted her chin up, gently pulling his head down. He met her half-way, crushing his lips against hers—and she kissed him back with all she had.

David Hale was in love with her.

He's said it with his words. And the way he moved against her solidified how he felt, warming her from her head, way down to the tips of her toes.

And it was _all_ there—all the magic…the sparks…the _butterflies._

But she couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear—not _yet_. She wanted no doubt in her heart when she said it.

* * *

Monroe Market was only a twenty minute drive away from Tara's house. The whole ride there, David never once let go of her hand. Every so often he would glance over at her and smile.

And Tara felt just a little bit shittier each time she smiled back.

A weight had been lifted off _his_ shoulders. But now _she _was the one with all the secrets—one more dangerous than the other. She had no way of knowing which one would be more _painful_ for him to hear.

When David pulled up in front of her driveway she had to force herself not to bolt from the car. He told her he loved her _again_ and she avoided saying it back by kissing him.

Tara waved from the top of her front steps. It didn't matter how conflicted she felt. She didn't want him feeling guilty about her father anymore.

She waited until he pulled off to walk over to knock on Opie's bedroom window. When he didn't respond she slid the window open, climbing inside.

If Opie was already asleep she'd hit the jackpot tonight. She might actually get to take a decent shower without him lecturing her about how girls take _forever _to wash their asses.

Opie was _such _a pain in the neck sometimes. Him and Donna really were perfect for each other.


	10. Chapter 10

**RANDOMNESS: **

Are any of you readers Blair & Chuck shippers? Remember a certain season 4 episode when they both made an **agreement** to do ONE thing & then in a span of days that agreement was over just as quick as they found a "_piano_" to END it on? (More specifically on TOP OF) Ha-ha….

**Words** are easy …it's following through with what you say you're (**not**) going to do that's hard. _Just saying… (hee-hee)_**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

_Dinner was amazing_.

Tinkerbelle really knew her way around a kitchen. Of course Jax had struggled to keep his food down after watching Donna and his best friend fawn over each other the whole time. But it was a pretty goodnight—good as it was going to get as far as Jax was concerned.

"I have to go _home_," Donna had pouted. As usual she spent ten minutes complaining about her curfew, Opie did the _sulking_ "I don't want to be away from you more than a minute" adoring boyfriend routine. And Jax watched the whole thing, making a mental note to give his best friend hell about it the first chance he got.

That was an hour ago. Jax had a feeling Opie would be a while. As innocent as Donna liked to _pretend_ she was he knew they were probably making up for the alone time they didn't get to have because they invited Jax to their dinner night.

Normally Jackson Teller was _never _one to cock-block anyone, much less his best friend but Wendy was missing in action and he _really _didn't want to go home tonight. The force of _havoc_ that is Gemma Teller was probably waiting for him at the dining room table, with his old man super-glued to the chair at the head of the table. The _last _thing he wanted was another heart to heart.

Jax settled in on the couch, some old movie he was barely paying attention to on the TV. He wasn't exactly sure when he dozed off or how long he'd been sleep. But he woke up to the sound of the shower running.

Jax heard the squeak of the water being turned off, the bathroom door opening and the footsteps down the hall to Opie's bedroom. Jax reached up to that spot behind his ear, only to realize he'd already used the cigarette he'd had tucked there before. Remembering the pack he'd spotted on Opie's dresser earlier, he sat there impatiently, flicking through the channels. They may change in front of each other in the locker room but that didn't mean Jax wanted to see Opie's naked ass any more often than necessary.

He decided to give him a chance to toss something on. Twenty-five minutes later, Opie still hadn't walked out. Jax shook his head as he got up off the couch. Only _girls _took that long to get dressed.

Jax knocked twice. When no one answered he stepped inside, flicking the light on.

The very first thing he noticed were her _legs_.

Tara was spread out across Opie's bed.

_Naked._

Well not _exactly—_but she might as well have been.

Is this what Tara did every time her father went into a drunken rage? Run next-door, hop in her neighbor's shower and then fall asleep on top of the sheets of his bed without bothering to put clothes on?

Because if so him and his best friend were going to have a talk about swapping households. Jax would _gladly _sleep on the floor every night if this was the view he had to look forward to.

The purple robe was barely covering her—the tie loosened, probably from when she'd rolled on to her side. She had one slipper hanging half-off. The other one was on the floor, right below her other bare, dangling foot. Her hair was twisted up in a large bath towel.

Tara had fallen asleep before she even got dressed. And once again he was caught up in just how beautiful she looked, even when she was exhausted.

Ignoring the sensible-voice in his head telling him to head back to the living room, Jax pushed the bedroom door closed with a soft click. As Jax approached her, he'd already convinced himself that waking her up was _the right thing to do_. She wasn't at home—she was in Opie's house and he knew she'd be embarrassed if he walked in on her like that.

That's _all _it was.

_He _didn't care about anything else. He was just looking out for her. Yeah. That's _it._

"Tara," Jax whispered. She didn't move an inch and his mind briefly flashed to Wendy's comment about learning to tune out the noise around her. Was Tara's father really that bad?

Jax shook the thought from his mind. He didn't want to think about that. All it did was piss him off. And rage that he couldn't _do_ anything with was a waste of his energy. He'd rather use it for something more productive.

_Shit._

"Tara," he said a little louder this time. He lightly nudged her shoulder.

Tara sat up so fast, it almost made him jump. And the second she did, her robe flew open, falling off her shoulders—just _barely _covering up all the parts that would make his mouth water.

_Holy Shit._

_Look away. Look away _now_._

Groggy as she was, Tara caught on a little late. She looked down, gasping before quickly yanking the robe completely closed around her. Her cheeks were chili pepper-red. And if Jax didn't think the comment would get him punched in the face, he would have been happy to let her know that from what he could tell, she didn't have a _damn _thing to be embarrassed about.

"I'm sorry," Jax said. _I _wish_ I was anyway. _"I thought it was Opie who—and when I saw it was you and you were…uh…I just thought I should wake you so you Opie wouldn't walk in here and…well _exactly_ what I _thought_ would happen, _happened_." Smiling down at her, he couldn't help but to add, "_And it was so much better than those V-necks you're always wearing_."

Tara looked like she wanted to kick him. Good for her that she didn't act on the impulse. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing anymore of her tonight—especially those legs.

"_Turn around_," Tara demanded.

"I was headed out anyway," Jax commented. _I really don't want to though. Not anymore._

Jax did just as she asked, walking off as soon as he turned, but then he felt her hand on his shoulder.

Wasn't he coming in here for a cigarette anyway? He could sure as hell use a smoke _now_.

Of course he'd have to turn back around in order to walk towards the dresser…

"_Wait,_" Tara said. "Don't go anywhere yet. I wanted to talk to you."

_If you think I'll be focusing on _anything _you say right now you're not the know-it-all everyone thinks you are. _

_You don't know a goddamn thing._

"Can't we do it tomorrow?" Was he imagining things or did his voice really sound strained?

_Damn it._

The spot on his shoulder felt cold when she removed her hand. "We _could. _But I'd rather get this over with."

So it was one of _those _talks. Hadn't he _called it_ earlier with his mom? Jax thought she would last at least a week before finding an excuse to bail on him again.

Not to mention, the whole reason he was at Opie's in the first place was because he didn't _want _another heart to heart…with _anyone. _

Jax was all talked out.

"_Relax, Jax_." Jax was also tired of Tara being the one to end things. That's why the amusement in her voice was the only thing keeping him from walking away first. "It's _not_ what you're thinking. Just give me a second."

Jax was hyperaware of everything going on behind him. He heard her walk over to Opie's dresser. He could tell it was the second one from the bottom—the one that required bending over—that she was opening.

He heard the rustle of clothing, the light _snap _against her waist as she released the band of whatever pajama bottoms she put on. On the wall, he spotted Tara's reflection just as she pulled her arms through a shirt.

"Okay. You can turn around now." Jax turned to face her.

And he was immediately convinced this girl was trying to give him a heart attack.

He'd thought the robe was taunting—her choice of bedtime attire was _worse_.

He recognized the shirt she wore. It was from National Breast Cancer awareness day. She'd got it when they'd walked to honor her mother—_three_ _goddamn years ago. _The T-shirt was about _three _sizes too small—and she wasn't wearing a bra.

The shorts weren't much better. They were the same terry-cloth material she'd had on in the lunch room earlier. But these were smaller…shorter. It was like she knew better than to wear them in public—like she knew she'd probably cause a five-car collision walking down the street. Those shorts were hazardous. He didn't have to wonder why she'd only wear them to bed. They hugged her hips, loose at the ends in just the right way to make him go crazy wondering if she'd put panties on underneath them without his _hypersensitivity_ catching it.

Tara unwrapped the towel from her head. Grabbing a comb on the dresser, she began pulling it through her hair, looking up at him every so often, through the mirror.

"_I'm sorry about today in detention_…." Tara started.

That damn T-shirt was pulling even tighter against her breasts as she reached up to pin her hair back.

"…_we were always the friends who flirted. I don't know why but we've been doing the will they or won't they dance since junior high school. Maybe it's the Teller Charm you were bragging about earlier…either way it doesn't matter because_…."

When she reached for the lotion bottle, Jax groaned inwardly. She was talking a mile and minute and nothing she said was registering. He was too transfixed with the way she ran her hands up and down her legs, massaging the lotion into her thighs. When she moved on to her arms, he was able to focus just enough to hear her comment about having a boyfriend, how she shouldn't have took it out on Jax when she was the one in the wrong.

"_… …tonight he finally opened up to me. We're starting over and I don't want to ruin our relationship just because you and I can't stop letting our crazy teenage hormones get the best of us._"

Tara snapped the cap back on the lotion, sitting it back on the dresser. Then she finally caught his eye again in the mirror.

Jax hoped to God he didn't look as turned on as he felt.

Jax also hoped she couldn't tell that he hadn't been listening to a word she said.

"So what do you think?" Tara asked him. _Shit._ "You think we can pull it off?"

The only thing Jax wanted to pull off was that annoying T-shirt she was wearing. He wanted to slide those poor excuse for shorts down past her ankles. All he could think about were those milky thighs wrapped around his waist. Sitting her on top of the dresser, pressing her back against the mirror. That stupid _clip_ had to go, too. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back so he could see the pleasure in her eyes when he—

"_Jax?_"

What was the last thing she said?

He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything she'd been saying for the past ten minutes.

Before he could figure out what he was supposed to be responding to, Tara was walking towards him.

For the first time in his life, Jackson Teller was the one fighting the urge to back away.

This girl was _dangerous. _And she had no fuckin idea.

Tara reached to put her hand on his arm—and _damn it_, he flinched. He actually _flinched. _Instead of laughing like _he _would have if the roles were reversed, she cocked an eyebrow at him. She wasn't even _trying _to tease him—she looked confused.

"_What the hell_, Teller," Tara said. "I'm supposed to be the tired one. Why are you spacing out on _me_?"

"Sorry." Jax cleared his throat. "What did you say?"

"Do you think we can pull it off?"

_You really need to stop all this talk about pulling shit off._

"Pull what off?" Jax forced himself to ask. Tara frowned at him and he had to bite his tongue to keep from saying _don't blame _me, _blame those fuckin pajamas you picked out._

"_Friends_," Tara said, sighing. "Do you think we can be friends _without_ all the extra? No more flirting…no more cat and mouse. No more getting angry when we see each other with another person. No more getting angry when…_Jesus_, Jax. I'm like a broken record here and you look even _more_ confused. Were you even listening to anything I said the past ten minutes?"

_Not really. No. But there was _one _thing I caught._

"You mentioned something about boyfriend." Jax hoped she didn't notice the ice in his voice when he said it.

It wasn't as if he hadn't already figured as much. But her confirming it made him want to pop the chain on that pizza-face having, band geek's ugly green bicycle. Or was that even who she was dating? Had she mentioned a name?

He really should have tried harder to focus.

But that was kind of hard to do when he was already _so fuckin _hard.

"Yes," Tara said. "I _do. _ And playing hot and cold with you isn't fair to him…but I don't want to go back to _before_. You asked me to stop running…so I'm stopping. I'm done taking off every time things get weird between us. We're obviously attracted to one another," Tara continued. _Yeah, no SHIT. _"But we both know that it'll _never_ work. We're better off as friends…and all the flirting back and forth just confuses things for me. That _Teller Charm _of yours? You need to reign it in, Jax. We have to stop toying with each other. That's the only way this friendship is going to last."

"You want to be friends?" Jax asked, his eyebrows rising. _Seriously, you want to talk about _friendship_ when you're dressed like you shop at the fuckin baby gap?_

"We _are _friends, Jax," Tara said, sighing. "That much hasn't changed. But what I need from you… this has to happen if we're going to _stay_ friends."

Jax didn't know what to say. Hadn't he been the one talking about how different they were? Hadn't he already convinced himself that it was better for _both of them _if they never crossed that line?

Why did all of that feel like bullshit now?

"Jax?" Tara was chewing her bottom lip, like she always did when she was nervous _or_ in deep thought about something. He knew it wasn't the thinking this time. Her mind was already made up. She was _nervous. _

Did she really think he was only around her for the thrill of the chase? That he was cozying up to her just to wear her down until he got what he wanted?

_Never._

If agreeing to her terms—torturing himself in the process—was the only way to prove that, he was game.

"_Just friends_, Tara," Jax agreed. The words tasted like vinegar on his tongue. He swallowed the bitterness like a champ. "No more Prince Charming. Should we shake on it?"

Tara beamed. Then before he could react she closed the gap between and pulled him into a hug. He'd barely locked his arms around her waist when she pulled away.

_Jumped _back was more like it. His arms were still curled around her so she couldn't move. She looked down at the tiny space between them.

She _felt _it. Jax knew she did. And he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it. When those green eyes flashed back up at him, he didn't have to question _what _emotion he saw in them.

Damn it, hadn't they _just _agreed to stop doing their _dance_? So why wasn't letting her go? And why the hell hadn't she pulled away yet?

"_Jax! _Where the hell did you go?" Opie's voice rang out from the living room. "You better not be in my bed. If Tara doesn't show up tonight _your ass _is sleeping on the floor!"

Tara pressed her hands on his forearms until he finally—reluctantly—released her.

Walking backwards towards the bed, she smiled at him meekly. "I'm going to bed now before Opie makes _me _sleep on the floor…Goodnight."

_As good as this night's gonna get._

"Goodnight, _Track star._"

"Not _anymore_!" Tara shot back, winking at him.

Jax gave her a stiff nod, smiling through the fact that it wasn't the _only _thing that was _stiff._ "Right," he agreed. _I guess running through my mind for the rest of the night doesn't count._

* * *

Jax flicked the light off, pulling the door closed as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway. He heard the sound of the fridge opening and closing.

When he walked into the kitchen, Opie looked up from the Harley Manual he'd been leaning against the counter reading. The acknowledgment of his presence in Opie's eyes morphed into a look of amusement—one that was getting to be a little too second nature for Jax's comfort.

"What the hell are you grinning about _now_?" Jax growled. He snatched Opie's open beer off the counter, taking a swig.

"I know that look," Opie said, his grin widening. "That was _my _face whenever Donna would stop me from putting my hands up her shirt. I never thought I'd see the day when _Prince Charming _would be sporting blue balls."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jax argued. But just to be safe he tried to subtly adjust his jeans.

Of course Opie caught him—and started snickering. "Oh I can't _wait. _You thought the club gave _me _hell for Donna? Wait until they find out who has _your_ boxers in a twist."

Jax flipped him the bird. "They're _still _giving you hell…because you've been acting like a pussy ever since she gave it up. Mark my words, Ope. _I will _never _be like you._"

"Yeah _okay_."

Jax nodded over at him. "So whose the clown Tara's dating anyway? I know _you _know. You follow after like she's your goddamn sister. It's actually kinda cute. _Big brother Opie._"

Opie's eyes narrowed. "I actually thought it was cute that I almost had to kick your ass that morning you saw her hop out of my window. You really think I don't know the Teller _death glare_?"

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Ask _her. _I'm not getting involved. I'm telling you like I told Donna. I'm staying out of it." Opie swiped the beer from Jax's hand as soon as he rested it on the counter. "Go find Wendy. _Get laid_. That constipated look on your face is starting to worry me."

"Yeah, I'll get on that," Jax answered, walking towards the couch to grab his hoodie.

"You going _now_?" Opie asked behind him.

"JT and Gemma are probably sleep by now. I'm going home to lay in my own bed," Jax lied. Knowing his mother she was putting on another pot of coffee. He didn't care if he had to walk all the way to Teller Morrow and sleep in the office.

He wasn't going home.

And there wasn't a chance in hell he was staying at Opie's tonight. He'd get _no _rest knowing that Tara was in a bed only a few feet away from him. Sleeping beauty brought on temptation like never before, and he for damn sure was thinking about pricking her finger. He had a whole 'nother scenario.

"Alright, bro," Opie said. "Later."

Jax didn't respond. He just pulled the Winston's front door shut.

* * *

Jax was at the end of Opie's lawn when something to the left caught his eye. There was a familiar blue Jeep parked in front of Tara's house.

What the hell was Jacob Jr's car doing parked there?

_What the hell?_

Maybe he had it wrong. Jax walked towards it, moving in closer, peeking inside the window to see.

"Hey, _handsome._"

Jax spun around at the sound of her voice. Standing behind him, her hair a honey-blonde tidal wave of curls was Sarah Hale.

"_Sarah?_"

Sarah gave him a lopsided grin. "You're the _last_ person I expected to see here."

"What are _you _doing here?" Jax asked as he looked her over. She looked exactly the same as before she left, and yet somehow completely different.

Still _hot. _But different.

Her eyes hadn't change though. _Mischief_ was still swirling in all the shades of grey. She still bit her bottom lip, and lowered her head to look up at him through her lashes.

Sarah Hale was the original _Lolita_ before Wendy Case came around. Clearly, her moves hadn't changed. And Jax couldn't really be mad at her. If it ain't broke, why fix it?

If this were any other night, he would have already taken the hint. She'd be on the hood of her brother's car in ten seconds flat, her legs up on his shoulders.

If only a certain brunette wasn't occupying his mind.

"I was hoping to catch Tara," Sarah explained. "My first day at CHS is tomorrow. I wanted to roll with my BFF, ya know?"

_Yeah, I wanna _roll _with her, too—in Opie's sheets. Or on his floor. Or on some grassy hill somewhere. Don't fuckin matter._

"Why'd you show up so late?" Jax wondered out loud.

Sarah shrugged. "_What?_ Did Arthur finally wake up and realize that fathers are the ones that should be doing the parenting?"

Jax nodded. _Right. _"I forgot how blunt you could be."

Sarah smirked. "Speaking _of_… you or Opie got any weed? I couldn't find my brothers stash. I wouldn't mind rolling one up."

"I see you're still daddy's little girl," Jax joked, shaking his head. "Since when do you smoke?"

Sarah reached towards him, rubbing her hand against his chest. "I do a lot of things, Jax," she teased. "I can show you a few."

Jax chuckled. "Same old Sarah." _I know all about what you do, or did you forget?_ Jax made a show of glancing at his watch. "I gotta go." _As much as I'd like to fuck you just to piss your dad off, I really don't need him making trouble for my dad. Not over pussy._

"Where you headed?" Sarah challenged.

"Club house."

There was that lip biting again. "I see Gemma still lets you run wild."

Jax's eyes narrowed. "Right about now I don't give a shit what Gemma or my old man want from me."

Sarah winced. Sucking her bottom lip, she moved in close to him, her breath tickling his ear. "I can feel the tension rolling off of you. Why don't you let me help work some of that out?"

_Wasn't Tara just teasing me about tension the other day? You two really are best friends, man._

"Maybe another night."

Sarah was making it harder to do the right thing—the _smart _thing. He didn't need any more _hard_. Hard was already pressing against the zipper of his jeans, painfully so.

"What were you planning to do?" Sarah asked, pulling away. "You gonnna walk there?"

Jax shook his head, pulling the cell from his pocket. She'd just given him an idea.

"I was gonna call the prospect. Make him give me a ride."

"Come _on_," Sarah urged. "Leave Kyle alone. I'll give you a ride."

_Damn this girl works fast. Barely back a day and she already knows who's prospecting this year._

Jax fixed his mouth to say _nah, I'm good_, but Sarah chose that moment to reach for him, stroking the erection pressing against his jeans. "Come on, Jax," she whispered, her lips inches from his. "Let's go for a ride."

* * *

Apparently, Sarah's definition of a ride was parking two blocks down from Opie's house. They were at the corner of the road—a dead end on a one-way street.

"I know you've been gone a while, Sarah" Jax said. "But this _isn't _the club house."

Instead of answering him, she shut the car off, leaving the key twisted in the ignition. She leaned over him, her hands feeling for something behind the front passenger seat. Jax heard a soft click before the chair was moving backwards, and Sarah climbed over to his side of the car.

Sarah sat up in his lap, her legs on either side of his waist, smiling at him slyly. It hadn't occurred to him until just then but he didn't even think he had a condom.

He was about to tell her _just that_ when she slid down to her knees on the floor of the car. Slowly—agonizingly slow, she unbuckled his belt, unlooping the buttons of jeans. Her hand pressed down on him as she slid his zipper open. She never broke eye contact with him. Jax lifted his hips up as she pulled at his jeans, yanking his boxers down with them as far as they would go. She started off with slow strokes, pumping him up in down in her hand. When she flicked her tongue against the tip for the first time, Jax groaned. Sarah wrapped her devilish lips around his cock, closing her eyes as she bobbed her head down.

And that was when every image that had playing in his head for the past few days took over of his mind—_seizing_ control of him where he sat. Sarah Hale was sucking his cock like it was her job, and she wanted Employee of the month.

And all he could think about was _Tara__. _

In the math department—the fire in her emerald eyes when Mr. Whitman let him off the hook like everyone else did. Everyone but _her. _

_"Fuck you_, Teller."

She loved to say that. She had _no fuckin idea_ how badly he wanted her to.

Her temper was like his own personal trigger. All he had to do was set her off, and she'd do something to make him anxious to _get _off.

Like when she ran her hands up and down her legs, caressing her thighs…talking all that _shit _about letting him take her back to one of the dorm rooms at the Club house. Taunting him about all the tension she had…about how he should be the one to relieve it. Did she know how badly he wanted to take her at her word? They would have never made it to _Club Reaper_. He would have pulled her straight into that janitor's closet she taunted him about. He'd rip those shorts off her, lift her up and wrap those never-ending legs around his waist, leaning back against all the mops and the brooms as she bounced up and down on his cock, his hands squeezing her ass hard enough to leave a permanent imprint.

If Wendy and Ima hadn't walked in he would have broken his _rule _for _her. _He would have been the one to close the gap—he would have wiped the indecision off her face just as swiftly as her back hit the table when he pushed against her, sliding her shirt up so he could trace circles around her navel with his tongue.

Tara wanted to be _just friends_? His mouth said yes, but she had zero luck convincing the part of him that brushed against her belly when she moved in to hug him back in Opie's room.

That damn shirt was _so _tight, her nipples were pressing against his chest. His fingers barely brushed against the small of her back before conflicting emotions were warring in his mind—he wanted to give her what she wanted, but his _brain _and the painful erection in his pants had opposing opinions on what that was.

What would have happened if Opie hadn't come home when he did? What if they hadn't been interrupted _yet again?_

Would she still be talking that bullshit about being _friends_? About not playing cat and mouse?

Or would he have gotten her on top of that dresser like he wanted to? Nah, they wouldn't have made it that far.

Maybe against the wall. Tara _loved _shoving him. Maybe she'd shove him back against the door and pop the buttons on his shirt when she tore it open with her bare hands. _Her_ shirt would have been the next thing to go. Jax was all for the Breast awareness, _fuck the cancer part. _He'd flick his tongue across each erect nipple, sucking it into his mouth until she moaned his name.

And when they finally slid down to the floor…when he'd finally tossed those pesky shorts aside, he'd _finally_ solve the mystery of if she was wearing panties.

If she was it wouldn't matter.

He'd rip them off of her in seconds.

Then he'd lean back, his head tapping against Opie's door, _willing_ her with his mind to keep those sexy green eyes open as she rode him.

And in no time at all he'd be moaning _her _name…

_FUCK…Tara…_

And then he'd be coming.

...He _was _coming.

Jax's eyes flew open as the last wave shook through his body. Sarah was looking up at him.

And she looked _pissed._

"Hey, Teller," Sarah hissed, glaring at him as she slid the back of her hand across her mouth. "A little word of advice. When a girl is nice enough to put your cock in her mouth the least you could do is remember her name. And in case my _mind-blowing _skills short-circuited that tiny brain of yours, my name is _Sar-Ah. _Not, _Tara._" As Sarah climbed back over to the driver's side, Jax was sure he heard her mumble, "_asshole._"

Jax had a delayed reaction. "I _said _Sarah," Jax commented, as he pulled his jeans back up. He placed his hand on her leg, rubbing up and down her thigh from under her mini-skirt. "Come on, Darlin," Jax crooned. "How the hell could I forget _your_ name? Tonight's not the first time you heard me shout it out." Jax winked at her.

Opie would have liked to have a front row seat to witness _this_ shit.

Hell, any teenage boy in Charming would love to capture this moment.

For the first time in the history—that didn't include stubborn green-eyed brunettes—the _Teller Charm _was a FLOP.

Sarah looked angrier than she was ten seconds ago. And even worse something very familiar to Jax gleamed in her eyes—_Spite. _Sarah Hale was like a fuckin rattlesnake when you crossed her.

"Did you ever tell her?" Sarah cocked an angry eyebrow.

_Jesus fuckin Christ. I know that _look._ It's the one you always have when you're looking to stir up some shit._

_SHIT._

"Tell _who, what_?" Jax feigned. He knew exactly what she was getting at.

It was no wonder Tara and Sarah were best friends for so long. They had a lot in common—they both had that rare ability to make Jax want to strike a female.

This one in particular was _really _asking for it if she even _thought _about going down that road with Tara.

"_Tara_, Jax," Sarah threatened. "Did you tell her the truth about her father?"

"No. I _didn't_. And you shouldn't either." Did he sound desperate? Why the hell did he let the worry seep into his voice?

Fuckin rattlesnake.

"Why not, Jax?" Sarah taunted. "You afraid it'll break her heart?"

He knew he would sound _just _like his mother if he said it. But damn it, if that wasn't the God's honest truth.

"Don't tell her Sarah. _I'm serious._"

"You're right, Jackson," Sarah purred, climbing back into his lap. "I've been gone a while… and I think that's why you forgot who you're dealing with. That Prince Charming bullshit only gets you so far with _me._"

"_Sarah_," Jax tried to warn, but all she did was smile at him.

"Fine, Jax," she acquiesced. "I'll keep quiet….but what's in it for me?"

"You mean other than your _best friend's _happiness?"

"You seem to be keeping her happy enough on your own," Sarah accused. "I've heard a few things…"

_Fuckin HALES_. They were nothing but grief. Every single one of them.

"What do you want, Sarah?"

Sarah laughed, leaning down to press her lips against his ear. "I _love it _when a guy asks me that."


	11. Chapter 11

**FYI:**

In my haste to upload **CH 10** with **9** (I'm trying to do _dual_ uploading…1 Tara, 1 Jax) I cut some stuff out that I didn't edit through for Jax's POV at the time.

I'm working on writing Tara's chapter right now but I thought you guys _might _like this **mini-chapter of Jax's own brand of the [_Charming HS Front Steps experience_]

Let me know your thoughts as always.

Hit the |**FOLLOW**| button, readers… seeing NEW followers when I sign on is honestly what entices me to update faster.

On a more random note, **R.I.P Robin Williams**. The world will never be the same without you. You truly _are_ & forever _will be _One of a Kind, so we'll just have to try to find solace in the amazing body of work you left behind.

Gems like _Mrs. Doubtfire _or my all-time favorite movie _Goodwill Hunting_. You'll always be _my _Genie, Rob. Thank you for all the laughs.

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Today was a day when Jackson Teller's best friend was _really _going to regret forgetting to take his phone off silent.

Opie hadn't answered his cell when Jax tried to call him that morning before school. And by the time Sarah finished getting "first day at school" ready he'd already missed the chance to catch him at his house before he left to pick up Donna.

Jax never did make it home.

It was a stroke of luck that all of the guys were already passed out when he showed up at the Club House with Sarah trailing behind him. The only person still awake was the prospect—and Kyle knew better than to run his mouth.

Sarah barely let him get any sleep—the _one_ time in his life when he would have preferred taking a nap over her whole hardcore porn star routine. There were moments when Jax _seriously_ contemplated telling Sarah to skip Charming High altogether and go apply for a job with his mother's friend, Luann's studio.

Jackson Teller was frustrated.

Frustrated in _every _way possible_. _He tried to pin point what the root of it was.

His Old man?

Gemma?

The former and the latter were enough to stress _anybody_ out, especially a teenage boy caught in the middle. Jax _wished_ it was his parents that had his brain scrambled, fried and refried.

Trouble with the 'rents was an easy fix—Weed, Tequila, & permanent residency on Piney Winston's couch.

Hell, he'd even take Sarah as the culprit behind his increasingly bad mood. But she was just the icing on a three layered cake.

Jax knew _exactly _why he was sulking. Pathetic as he felt, he couldn't deny that it had everything to do with Tara.

Is _this _what it meant to obsess over someone only once you know you _can't _have them?

Ever since he'd agreed—NO, ever since Tara _made _him agree to be friends and nothing else _all _he could think about was being more.

All he could think about was kissing her, playing in her hair…making those gorgeous green eyes light up when he joked with her, made fun of her.

And this _b_oy_friend _of hers.

He couldn't stop wondering who it was, how long he'd been with her.

What _the hell_ had he opened up about?

It must have been serious for Tara to react the way she did.

Did he tell her he loved her? Did Tara love _him_?

Sarah had been right about one thing. His brain was definitely suffering one hell of a short-circuit. But it had _nothing_ to do with a blowjob.

It had _everything _to do with Tara Knowles.

Tara was what he was thinking about when they pulled into the student parking lot. She was on his mind when he absently felt Sarah slide her hands into his when they were walking towards the main building.

Tara was who he saw first when they approached the top of the school steps.

And he hated _himself _when the mere sight of her improved his mood exponentially.

"I'm _serious_, Donna. It's not _all _employees. Just _me._ This chick goes out of her way to—"

Tara stopped talking mid-sentence.

Jax saw the exact moment her eyes zeroed in on Sarah's hands joined with his own. Hell, they realized at the same time. Jax hadn't even been paying attention when she grabbed his hand.

When Tara looked up at him her eyes were blank. He couldn't get a read on what was going through her head.

Was she surprised? Jealous maybe?

_Jesus Christ_.

He was turning into his mother with all the damn questions.

There was one thing he didn't have to wonder about though.

_Opie._

His best friend was looking up at Sarah like he was seeing a ghost.

_You really should learn to answer your goddamn phone, man._

_I _tried _to give you a heads up._

When Jax's eyes traveled over to Donna, the pint-sized, raven-haired girl was staring at Opie's face. Whatever she saw in his expression made her gaze flash up in Sarah's direction, her bright eyes narrowing.

_Oh, hell no, _Jax thought_. Brotha, I _know_ you are not _that _stupid to tell your girlfriend about—_

_"_Hey, Lady Tee!"

Sarah plopped down next to Tara, yanking Jax along with her.

Donna snorted. Jax heard her whisper to Opie, "Lady Tee? _Really?_"

"Hey, 'Rah." Tara's eyes drifted towards the bottom of the steps.

Was she avoiding looking at them? Or was she _looking _for someone?

Jax followed her eyes and saw no one in particuar.

"Hey, _Track star_," Jax said leaning to look around Sarah.

Tara smiled over at him even as she rolled her eyes. "Hey, jerk."

"You're on the track team?" Sarah asked, her nose wrinkling.

Tara, Jax, Opie _and _Donna burst out laughing at the same time.

"No," Tara said, giggling. "It's just a nickname. A very _annoying _one_._"

Tara narrowed her eyes at Jax, her mouth twitching at the corners.

"Yeah," Donna agreed, cutting in. "Kind of like _Lady Tee_ only it doesn't make you sound like a character from a Shakespeare play."

Sarah cocked her head to the side, peering over at Donna. "You're Donna, Harry's _new _girlfriend right?"

Donna stopped laughing. "We've been together eight months"—Donna glared when Sarah wolf-whistled—"….I'm guessing you're Sarah, the…."

Opie looked over at Jax—his eyes said it _all_.

Jax shrugged his shoulders. _This shit ain't on _me. _I _called_ you, bro._

"I'm Harry's _friend_… it's way too weird to say _old_. We never really stopped being friends right, _Harry_?"

Jax eyes found their way back to Tara's face—her green eyes were wide.

Jax briefly wondered how close Opie and Tara really were…and if she knew what a landmine his friend was walking through right now.

It would have been funny to Jax if he wasn't in the same boat.

Okay, it was _still _funny.

Sarah was good at many things—top of the list was giving head and causing trouble.

The troublemaking talent was her _specialty_.

"You've been gone a long time. He goes by _Opie_," Donna corrected. Jax never saw Opie snatch his girlfriend's hand up so fast in his life. He brought it to his mouth, kissing the back of it—almost dropping the lit cigarette in his other hand in the process.

_Good for you, Ope. Don't let the rattlesnake fuck with you and yours._

"I _always_ called him, Harry," Sarah countered. "Although to be fair I guess I see your point…I was the only one he would let get away with it."

Donna's giggle sounded like more of a bark. "_Great_, another attention whore."

_Aw, SHIT._

Opie's lungs were suddenly _new _to the whole cigarette thing—he started coughing to clear the smoke in his lungs.

Donna steeled her eyes on Jax. "When are you gonna get it _right?_" Donna's eyes bounced over to Tara, who was taking entirely too long to check the time on her _digital _watch.

"I'm sensing a little hostility…" Sarah's voice was saccharine, sickly sweet. It made Jax's tooth ache. "I'm guessing _Opie _told you…that's so _sweet_. He tells you everything…"

_Not sweet, bro. Stupid as HELL._

"…You have _nothing _to worry about, Donna." Sarah smiled like the church-girl she _wasn't. _"Ancient history…all _firsts _are…well _my _firsts anyway."

**B_RNNNGG!_**

Saved by the fuckin bell.

Sarah was saved from the facial reconstruction she was seconds away from getting _pro-bono_, courtesy of Dr. Donna—I'll-smack-a-bitch—Lewis.

Opie was saved from having Sarah pointing out how red his face suddenly was—and the bitch _loved _to point shit out.

Tara was saved from Donna's inability to _stop _playing matchmaker.

And Jax was saved from getting punched in the face by his best friend for laughing his ass off at his predicament.

Opie stood up fast, pulling his angry girlfriend with him. He never let her hand go—and it was probably better for Sarah that he didn't.

Jax had been a witness to Donna's right hook that one time Emily Duncan thought it was a good idea to sit on Opie's lap.

"Come on, baby," Opie said. "...let me walk you to class."

Tara stood up next. "Yeah I should probably head in, too."

Opie and Donna walked off, Tara right on their heels.

"_Tara_," Jax called out.

He wasn't used to her sticking around once she made up her mind to take off in the opposite direction somewhere. So when she spun back around to face him—well _them_—he had to quickly think of something to say.

"Did you finish _Hamlet _yet?" Jax blurted out. "I can't find the copy my Old man bought me. I wanted to read it again. We're covering it in my English class this semester."

Tara smile was wide, her eyes doing that sparkling thing in the sunlight. He wanted to bask in the full effect of it a little longer. He wanted her to stand there looking at _him—_not somewhere else, a little longer.

"_Almost_," Tara responded. "When I'm finished I'll—"

"—_Ugh_." Sarah turned around to face him, her wild curls nearly whipping him in the face. "Don't tell me _Nerd-vana_ is rubbing off on you, too now."

_I'm the one that convinced her to give his writing a try in the _first _place. Real books, instead of that Matilda bullshit you two loved reading so damn much._

_And I KNEW it was your evil ass that came up with that nickname she hated so much in Junior High._

"I've _been _into Shakespeare, Darlin'," Jax said diplomatically. He wanted to push her down the stairs and watch her tumble— a honey blonde tumbleweed sounded perfect.

Instead he winked up at Tara.

When Tara snickered, Jax had a feeling they were thinking the same thing.

"Well, you would think with all the Shakespeare you'd learn a thing or two about _romance_," Sarah teased, wriggling her eyebrows. "But that's okay, _Prince Charming_. I'll teach you to live up to your name, yet." Sarah pulled him by the collar of his shirt, crushing her lips to his.

When she _finally_ pulled away, Jax looked up to see the front entrance door already swinging shut behind Tara's retreating back.

She'd stormed off. He knew it even if he hadn't seen it. He knew Tara's angry sprint by now—it was the story of his life.

_No more running. _

_No more getting jealous. _

_Just friends._

_If _I'm _the Outlaw, why can't _you _stick to your own goddamn rules?_

_…Or am I just seeing what I _want_ to see?_

Jax was sick of the interrogation going on his head.

Him and Tara were going to have work out the kinks in this whole _friendship _thing.

_I've officially lost my goddamn mind_, Jax thought.

He must _have. _What teenager in their _right_ mind looks forward to _detention?_


	12. Chapter 12

**RED **A**LERT!**

**I don't know _what_ to say to introduce |**CHAPTER **12| except these two things:**

**1- I'm interested to *read* your thoughts on it. (**DUH**!) Especially since it's a little more AU than usual.**

**2- I can't _wait_ to finish writing the |Charming Fundraiser **(**lusty**-good fun)**| & |Sarah Hale's Welcome back party **(**tragedy** brings Jax&Tara close like they were **3** years ago)**| chapters for you guys. **

**Those chapters are part of the GLUE…The Jackson & Tara _Teller _(yes I went _there!) _GLUE.**

Just food for thought—so hang _tight._

**All you SOA-addicts know all about _the Glue, _am I right?**

**_-_**_ **V**eritable **O**ld **L**ady **C**row_

* * *

Tara Knowles had a _question._

It was a question that had been running through her mind ever since she sat down in her second period English class.

Well, _not exactly. _

If one wanted to be _technical _the question didn't occur to Tara until _Donna Lewis _plopped down at the desk next to hers.

Donna hadn't even pulled the strap of her messenger bag off her shoulder good before she was staring Tara down, a look of reluctant curiosity in her gray-blue eyes.

Tara could feel Donna's eyes drilling a hole into the side of her face. When she finally gave in, glancing over in her direction, Donna wasted no time blurting out, "_So I want to ask you something about Opie."_

Donna said _Opie_.

But all Tara heard was _Sarah._

"What about him?" Tara asked, looking over towards the classroom door.

_Where the hell is Mrs. Braithwaite?_

That lady was never late to class.

Donna was silent just a little too long. Tara looked back over towards her.

She regretted it immediately.

"How serious were things with Opie…and _her_?"

Right about now, Tara really wished she could afford a private tutor. This high school shit was _so _not worth the stress.

Sighing she offered Donna an apologetic smile. "Opie tells you everything. I think you _know _how serious they were…"

"I thought I did," Donna complained. "But that b—your _best friend _made it sound like it was more than just sex…like a _real _first _everything_…like they were in love or something…"

"I keep forgetting you're not originally from here." Tara sighed. "_Look. _We were _all_ close when we were younger. Sarah and Opie were like me and Jax. It was just a childhood sweetheart kind of thing. Stickers and candy hearts. We grew out of it a long time ago."

Tara's eyes snapped from a spot on the blank, green chalkboard to Donna's face when she heard her groan.

"_What?_"

Donna shook her head. "If her and Ope are anything like _you and Jax _I have a really big problem."

Tara rolled her eyes. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_ you two—"

"—you and Jax is the _worst _example you could have used to make her feel better," Wendy said from the side of Tara's desk.

Donna glared up at her. "Why is it that every time you're around I find myself sounding like a broken record? Once again, _who the fuck asked you_?"

"I guess my charm hasn't warmed you up to me yet," Wendy joked, sitting on top of Tara's desk. "So…you want to know the _real deal_ between Opie and Princess Hale?" Wendy laughed when Donna's eyes narrowed to slits. "_Hey, _no need to get hostile with _me _Tinkerbelle. I'm just the messenger…or at least I _could be_ if you ask me nicely."

And there was the question again.

_Where in the mother-loving hell is Mrs. Braithwaite?_

"She didn't ask _you_," Tara cut in. "She asked _me._ Get the hell off my desk."

_Before I shove your ass off._

Wendy snickered. "_Right_. Because _you're _gonna tell her the truth. You can't even be honest with yourself about your _own _fucked up love triangle. How's _David_ by the way?" Tara gasped. "You should be nicer to me, Tara. I like to push people's buttons…but I've been really nice about not pushing yours. Like Jax for instance…I wonder how he'd feel about you dating the one guy he can't stand. _Friendships _have ended for less…"

Tara's eyes blazed. "Listen you little—"

"—_Ah, ah, ah_…" Wendy shook a freshly manicured finger in her face. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. I could have told him _months _ago…I just thought it would be more entertaining to watch it all _unfold." _Wendy shrugged. "I guess you can thank my junkie mom for my increasing boredom. All the money she could use to pay the cable bill goes into her arm. So I have to find other ways to _amuse_ myself."

"What do you want, Wendy?" Tara dared to ask.

"_I wanna hang out_." Wendy slid off Tara's desk. Sitting backwards on the chair directly in front of it, the chair screeched against the floor as she scooched closer. "Jax is fun and all...but he's not really one for having long conversations. But you already know that, don't you? Or at least you would if you weren't such a _roadrunner_."

_Great._

_Another corny ass joke about me running. They must be _running _out of them by now._

Tara cocked an eyebrow. "What about _Ima_?"

Wendy scoffed. "That bitch _shits _glitter. There's only so many times I can talk about my hair and how great my ass looks in my Levi's…and _honestly_, Do I _really_ need to talk about it? I think my ass speaks for itself."

Donna cleared her throat. "Can we get back to _me_?"

"_Sure_," Tara and Wendy answered at the same time.

"You want the long version or the short version?"

"_Wendy_—"

Donna held up a hand to Tara. It was the shock of it that made Tara pause.

_Damn. Tinkerbelle must be tweaking the hell out._

"The _long_ version," Donna demanded.

Wendy nodded, tapping a _glitter-fied _fingernail against her chin. "Hmmm…_Let's see_….Okay, so Opie loved _Sarah_ but Sarah loved _Jackson_…Opie doesn't _realize_ that Sarah loves Jackson. _Sarah_ realizes Opie loves Sarah. Sarah's too _stupid_ to realize that Jackson loves"—Wendy paused, looking pointedly at the fidgeting brunette in front of her.

Tara averted her gaze to stare at the open classroom door again.

_Where the FUCK is Mrs. Braithwaite?_

"And?" Donna prompted, her arms folded across her chest.

"…Sarah tries to make Jackson _jealous_ by fooling around with his best friend—_who, wouldn't you know it—_happens to be _Opie…_ Opie finds out it was all a _game _to her…Opie's heart gets crushed. Jackson finds out _he_ helped crush his best pal Opie's heart. Then he finds out Sarah _knew_ what she was doing the whole time. Jackson decides to chew her out about it—_throws her a couple _bitch's_ and _whore's_…words like _rancid_…basically the standard _Jackson Teller_ tell-off—oh but _THEN! Big brother_ David_ overhears the whole thing. Big brother David decides to defend Princess Sarah's honor"—Wendy held both of her arms up on either side of her face, flexing them like a body builder—"…Jackson goes all _HULK ANGGG-GREE! _on his ass—_probably because he couldn't do it to Sarah…you _know…_'cuz she's a _girl_—_and then Prince _I'm-only-Charming-until-I-beat-the-shit-outta-you_ gets arrested…but _Unser _lets him off the hook—_naturally—_and now Judge Hale is on the warpath because his son has a broken nose and a swollen jaw with no legal justice served—_which if you ask _me _was more him being upset about the whole my daughter is a trouble making slut and my son got his ass kicked in front of half the County of it all, but that's just _my _opinion_—any-wayyy…Gemma Teller's all _Atta boy, Jax! _The Club is all way to go _Jackie, boy! _And Opie's all _It was _just_ pussy. We're all good, bro._ And Jackson agrees even though he knows its bullshit—_because you can't bullshit a _certified bullshitter_, right Tara?"_

_Mrs. Braithwaite…Where are you? _

_My _continued_ lack of criminal record is _dependent _upon you showing up RIGHT FUCKIN NOW._

"So Opie was in love with her?" Donna's voice was doing that cracking thing—that thing voices usually did when a person was fighting tears.

The click-clack of heels sounded at the front of the classroom.

_You're not Mrs. Braithwaite…_

"Apologies for my tardiness," the older woman said. "I will be your substitute this morning…and probably for the remainder of this week…Now I went over your syllabus on my way up here. _Please_ take out your copies of _A Streetcar named Desire_ now."

…_but I am not complaining. _

_I _accept _this._

Tara yanked her bag open, pulling the book from inside of it.

Donna couldn't fault _her_ for tuning them out.

She was the _know-it-all, Nerd-vana, _all that good shit. Ignoring them had _nothing_ to do with the sudden change in direction of the conversation.

It hadn't nothing to do with the fact that Wendy saying Jax was in love with her—which she _knew _was total bullshit—made her heart skip a beat, then grow three sizes like that ugly green thing that stole Christmas from the Who's.

Nope.

Jackson Teller was a _flirt—_a flirt who also happened to be Sex on legs. No one could blame her at all for _flirting back _on occasion. (Well David could, but that was a whole other ball game.)

It was basic chemistry 101—she couldn't control it.

None of that dangerous _love _shit was happening though—not _ever._

When Tara opened her English notebook, when she got _really _engrossed with writing her name and the date at the top of the page in perfect cursive it had nothing to do her not wanting to do what Opie suggested, and _pick a side _where the two teenage boys tugging at her heart were concerned.

Her sitting bone-straight in her desk-chair, eyes glued to the chalkboard, waiting for the notes wasn't her way of avoiding, or deflecting—or _running_.

Tara was just _really fuckin _eager to learn!

"In love… in _lust._" Wendy shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the shit-storm she just caused. "We're teenagers for Christ's sake. Isn't it the same damn thing?"

"No," Donna snapped. "It's _not._"

Wendy smacked her lips, nodding once. "O-kaay…you remember what I said about not shooting the messenger, right?"

Donna turned her glare towards Tara. "You better talk to _your_ friend, Tara. Introduce her to _Emily Duncan_ while you're at it. I'm not about to let her screw with his head again just because she can."

"It's not like that," Tara argued. It sounded weak to even her own ears. "That was Junior High School. It's in the past. _Trust me._"

Donna snorted. "Like you and Jax are in the _past_? You good with her rubbing up on _him_?"

"What does he have to do with anything? And no I _don't _care."

_Liar, _said a voice in her head.

"That didn't bother you seeing them together like that?" Donna challenged.

_When did this become about me?_

_And I'm pretty sure that whole Sarah-Jackson PDA display was for Opie's benefit…._

_SHIT._

_Damn it, Sarah._

_Now _I _feel shitty._

"I'll talk to her," Tara promised.

"You _better._"

"So," Wendy interrupted. "Is this what you two do? Talk about guys all the time? High school boys are played out ladies. Wait 'til I tell you about Jacob _Junior... Oooh _or Kyle Hobart…."

_Yuck._

When Tara's cell phone vibrated, she crossed her fingers that whoever was calling had a way of saving her from this _new _topic.

Tucking the phone between her hand and ear, she leaned down, her hair falling over it. "Hello?" she whispered, watching as the substitute teacher wrote her name across the chalkboard.

_"Hey, baby, it's me….ask for a hall pass and come outside…I want to show you something..."_

Her boyfriend—whose name was David _not _Jackson—would do just fine.

* * *

"Do you like it?"

Tara gave it a full circle once over before looking up at David. "It's very _shiny_."

David chuckled. "Custom paint job…I picked the color out and everything… the judge says he's not getting me shit for Christmas now…" David ran his hands along the hood of the car. "…and I _really_ don't give a shit."

Tara found herself giggling, even as her eyes rolled to the sky.

What was it with boys and their obsession with cars?

Placing a hand on her hips she asked, "You couldn't wait until after school to show me your new _baby_?"

David brushed her long hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "I'm not gonna lie…that's not the only reason I asked you to come out here."

"No?"

David shook his head. Tara wasn't used to seeing mischief in his eyes. He grabbed her by her waist, pulling her forward as he backed up against his shiny new car. "I already gave it a test drive before I pulled off the lot…" David kissed along her jaw. Tara cocked an eyebrow—smiling as she wrapped her arms around his neck when he leaned down to kiss her. Tara grazed his bottom lip with her teeth when he pulled his lips away from hers.

"…and everything was _perfect_," David continued. Tara's answering "_mmhm?_" was a moan against his mouth, as his fingers crept their way up her shirt, to the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him.

David's lips found their way back to her jaw, working their towards her ear, where he whispered, "I was hoping you could help me test out the _backseat_…"

Tara pulled back to look in his eyes, surprise widening her own.

Where was _this _David four months ago?

Oh, _right_…buried underneath a pile of guilt.

Tara bit her bottom lip, smiling at him brazenly. She slid her hands deep down the front pockets of his jeans, Tara giggled when she heard David's breathing hitch. She took her time—which was agonizingly slow—wrapping her fingers around what she was _really _after. David finally exhaled when she pulled her hands out. Twirling the car keys around in one of them, she clicked the button and the car locks popped up. Tara reached around him pulling the back passenger door open, bumping it against his back.

Taking her cue, David stepped aside. His hazel eyes darkened as he watched her slide backwards into the backseat. She crooked her finger at him, giggling when he launched himself inside the car, the door slamming shut behind him. He had her legs around his waist in three-seconds flat, Tara's back bumping against the window as he nudged her face aside, his lips kissing a deliciously-bruising trail along her throat. When Tara reached underneath his shirt to scale her nails along his rock-hard abs, he pulled away. He left her no moment to contemplate why. Just as soon his back rested against the chair, he reached for her, guiding her into his lap. When Tara pressed down against him, his fingers dug into her sides.

The way she rocked against him was _too distracting_.

And to David, loosening all the buttons of her blouse was worth his _undivided attention_.

So did her tugging down the straps her of bra.

And committing it to memory when the first moan escaped past her mouth as his lips closed around her nipple.

Nothing else mattered.

Not the fact that they were in the middle of the school parking lot.

Not the fact that his Coach was most _definitely _going to bench him for cutting his gym class.

Not even the fact that Jacob Junior had pulled up four parking spaces away—or that he recognized his younger brother's shiny new car.

Nothing else mattered at all.

Not until they heard his knuckles wrapping against the window, anyway.

* * *

_Tap, Tap, Tap!_

There was no delayed reaction for Tara this time around. She yanked her blouse closed so fast she nearly jammed her finger against the fabric.

Tara swerved off David's lap to the other side of the car, her eyes darting from left to right like she was watching a tennis match.

She was in a parking lot—again.

In broad daylight—again.

And she couldn't help but wonder if it would be better for her reputation to date a vampire instead. Vamps had lairs and didn't fare well in the sun.

She could use a guy like that.

Someone who wouldn't entice her to do naughty things in public places….like on top of cafeteria tables.

_Where the hell did that come from? _

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

Tara had no time to ponder. Her mind flipped to thinking of all the ways she could kill her boyfriend when he thought it was a good idea to roll his window down.

Opting to wait until there were no witnesses, she turned her body all the way towards the window, her dark hair falling over her face.

Jacob Hale Jr.

He fanned his hand, dramatically outside the window as if that would somehow get rid of all the steam clouding the glass.

"Don't tell me my little brother the choir boy is lighting one up on school grounds," Jacob joked. "You forget how to answer your phone? Dad wanted _me _to take Sarah and some of her friends to the mall in Lodi after school…but _I _have plans. So I'm delegating to you. I'll owe you one. What do you say?"

Tara heard David clear his throat. "Can we talk about this later?"

_No, idiot. Don't try to evade, just agree so he'll keep it moving._

"I'm headed to Tijuana now. I got a surprise for the Golden child. I convinced mom and dad to take that trip to Telluride they've been putting off. This Saturday is officially _Welcome back, Sarah_ Day! I already booked a DJ. And I even"—When Jacob stopped talking midsentence she _knew. _

"Fine," David agreed. "I'll do it. Now go away."

"Is that…is that _Tara_?"

_Oh well._

"Hey, _Sir-mix-alot_," Tara said turning to face him.

Jake smiled over at her. "_Little Orphan Tara…_how's life? What you doing in my brother's new wheels? I know he's desperate to show it off but…"

Tara followed Jacob's eyes all the way down to her blouse—where all the buttons were either loose or in the wrong hole.

"_Holy shit."_ Jacob eyes widened. Turning to his brother he said, "Are you kidding me, Davey?"

"It's none of your damn business, Jake," David barked.

The shock on Jacob's faced crumbled.

Then abruptly he burst out laughing—head tilted back, he even had the nerve to slap his knee as he chuckled.

"This is _why_?" Jacob Jr. goaded. "You crushed mom's dream of finally having a _daughter_ because you wanted to screw her? _Oh you just wait until she finds out why you didn't want her to—_you know what? I'm not even going to tell her. That'll just give Sarah a headache when Miss Gin and Tonic starts going on and on about how she wishes Sarah was more _this _and she wishes Sarah would do _that. _That'll just piss off the princess and when she's pissed its hell for _everyone… _including me. _Nope,_ I'm not telling her a damn thing. But it is O_-fish-yall, _you hearing me little bro? _I own your ass._ I'm done catering to Sarah. You're on your own and if you're smart you'll grin and bear it."

Jacob raised a hand, wriggling his fingers at Tara. "Later, Miss _O_." Then he walked away—swaggered away is more like it—the whole time mumbling to himself, "I am _so _off the hook for knocking that Carlie bitch up!"

* * *

The silence in the car was deafening.

Tara couldn't stand it any longer.

"I thought your mom wasn't upset anymore," Tara commented quietly. "Sarah said—"

David whipped around, his eyes hard. "—do you really think Sara would admit to anything that made _her _look inferior to anybody?" David scoffed, though it was more to himself. "…like my sister would _ever_ admit her mother loved her best friend more than her own daughter."

Tara wrinkled her nose. "You sound ridiculous, David. Even for you."

"You think Its bullshit?" David challenged. "Why do you think Sarah's so jealous of you?"

Nervous laughter ripped through her before Tara could stop it. "_David_—"

"—I'm _not_ saying my mom doesn't love her…that's not what I _mean…_ Of course she loves her. Every parent loves their child in their own way. But Sarah's always been _daddy's_ little girl...and you were like…_I don't know_…you liked _art_…and _cooking_, and you loved listening to her stories about her years as an _intern_ at Charming Med before it was _St. Thomas_… you were always asking her questions…_Hell_, Tara… you let her go dress-shopping with you…you helped her plan all her events like you were her little _girl Friday _or something…she didn't have to drag _you_ kicking and screaming to church with her on Sunday, or afternoon brunch afterterwards.." David looked up from the folded hands in his lap to give Tara a sad smile. "You were like her substitute for all the things Sarah _isn't_…deep down I _know_ Sarah hated that her own mother felt like she needed a replacement. And even worse it was her best friend and she loved you, too. Do you know what it feels like to love someone even when you resent them?"

_Of course I do. I still love my dad. I _hate_ him but I love him._

"I miss her," Tara admitted.

_But your mother could never replace _my _mother._

"She misses you, too." David reached for her hand, lacing her fingers in between his. "She wanted to take you on as her own…she fell in love with you...and I can't even blame her…falling for you…it's _inevitable."_

Tara slid closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. His breath tickled her knuckles as he kissed the back of her hand. Leaning back to look up at him she said, "I should go see her sometime."

David's body went rigid underneath her, making her pull away and turn her all the way around to face him. "What is it _now_?"

David looked through the window behind her. "When I told them I was against the adoption my mother asked me _why_…and I couldn't tell her the truth so I told her—"

Tara placed her arm on his shoulder, shaking her head twice. "Whatever it was, I don't want to know because it doesn't matter…it's in the _past_."

_Just like everything with your father—it's all in the past…_

"David…" The alarm in his eyes had increased instead of diminished. Reaching up, placing her hand on his cheek she said, "I'm not angry with you. I'm glad you told—"

"—you don't get it, Tara… you're not the one I'm worried about...I don't think she'll understand why I'm with you if...if..."

Suddenly Tara felt cold all over, even sucking the warmth from her voice. Steeling her eyes against the pained expression staring her in the face, she asked a question she knew she'd didn't really want the answer to.

Tara knew without a doubt that David had gotten real creative with the lie he told his mother.

She _knew _it was something hard to take back.

And for all her life was worth she _couldn't_ shake the feeling that David's _fiction_ had become a reality—only it was one more _twisted_ than anything a teenage boy could dream up.

Especially when it involved the man he looked up to his entire life.

"_What the hell did you tell her?_" Tara forced out.

**B_RNNNNG_!**

The signal to the end of second period rang out in the distance.

The lot would be filling up soon.

Repeat-seniors with only one or two credits to make up rushing out of the building to get to their nine-to-five jobs. 11th and 12th graders headed out to take in the late morning sun up on the bleachers by the football field during their early lunch period. Freshmen cutting it close, showing up just as third period started.

Saved by the bell—again.

But who was it saving this time?

The boy who was afraid to tell the truth? Or the girl that was terrified to hear it?

* * *

Tara was in full on zombie mode as she walked through the third floor hallway. Fellow students zoomed by one direction or the other, a white-noise blur of faces and voices—not a single one in focus.

David Hale gave the term _melodramatic_ a whole new meaning. The lie he told wasn't even something to sneeze at.

But now she couldn't stop thinking about the lies _she_ told.

The truth she'd buried for so long—the truth that was prodding against the surface, trying to break through—trying to break _her. _

She wouldn't let it. She beat it down once—she could do it again.

She just had to remember what got her through it the first time—_Who_ got her through it.

"Cutting it close today, Ms. Knowles," Mr. Whitman noted as she walked into the classroom.

Tara pretended she didn't hear him as she sat down at her desk.

Tara knew _exactly _who got her through it—and the bitch of it was he wasn't even trying to get her through _anything_. He didn't know.

No one did.

But _he _got her through it.

Being around him made her feel safe—it made her feel wanted without strings…without conditions…without _threats._

"_Pssst! _Track star! Any chance I could copy your homework?"

Tara could hear the smile in Jackson Teller's voice.

She couldn't look at him right now.

He would _see _it.

And Opie wasn't around to run interference for all the things she was feeling about his best friend right now.

* * *

Mr. Whitman was a student-screwing pervert, no question.

But he was damn good math teacher and Tara wasn't ready to write him off completely. Half way out of his classroom door, she finally caved. Swallowing every last ounce of pride she had, Tara begged her teacher to postpone her last day of detention.

And he actually let her off the hook.

No make-up day—just a stern warning to learn to control her temper.

Arthur was working nights now. He was probably at home, lounging on the couch—a bottle of bourbon in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

Tara didn't want to go home, and she was off the schedule at work today.

Being alone meant thinking about Judge Jacob Hale.

It meant obsessing over Jax, wondering how long she could keep sending him mixed signals before he walked away from her for good.

It meant beating herself up about the fact, that _once again _she didn't want him—she _needed _him. And Opie had his own shit now, so he couldn't even fulfill his role as a poor substitute.

She couldn't make up her mind about _anything._

The only thing that made sense was David—she knew where she stood with him. She knew _he _loved her. She just had to believe that wouldn't change no matter what.

"_Hey, Tee."_ Tara spun around at the sound of Sarah's voice. "You hear to try out?"

When Tara cocked an eyebrow, Sarah waved a hand behind her.

In the middle of the bleachers, huddled together was most of the cheerleading team.

"No," Tara answered quickly. "I was actually—"

"—looking for David?" Sarah nodded towards the other side of the field. "He's over there."

Tara followed her gaze. On the ground, practically in between her legs, David was pushing Maize O'Keefe's leg forward, high above her head.

"Relax, Tee," Sarah said. Tara immediately recognized her _the-truth-is-the-opposite-of-what-I'm-saying _voice. "He's just helping her stretch. The guys from the team do it for the squad all the time."

_And you know this because you've been back for five minutes._

"It's fine." Tara was surprised she managed to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Where was this bitch when he wanted to show off his fancy new backseat? "I was actually taking my shortcut through the fence. Mr. Whitman let me off the hook for my last day of detention so I'm on my way home."

"What'd you do to get detention anyway?" _Not a damn thing._

"It was Jax's fault actually."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Aren't you bored with blaming him for everything, yet?"

Tara shook her head. "It really was _his _fault. It's okay though. He ended up getting in trouble, too."

"_Funny_, there's a rumor going around that you two had sex in the cafeteria the other day…"

Tara wasn't touching _that_ one so she switched gears. "Listen, Sarah," Tara started. "Donna's a little testy with people she doesn't know…but she's not a bad person. So take it easy on her, okay?"

Sarah tilted her head forward, looking up at Tara through batting lashes. "I don''t know what you mean, Lady Tee."

_Enough of _that _shit. _

_"_It's _Tara_," Tara snapped.

Sarah's cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"My name is _Tara._ It stopped being Lady Tee when you stopped being Princess 'Rah…_when were eight_."

Sarah's eyes widened briefly. She recovered quickly though, with the same sardonic smile as before. "So _what,_ Jax is the only one that gets to keep his childhood nickname?"

"Prince Charming was never a nickname. It was an _insult_. He's the one that decided to embrace it."

"Right." Sarah chewed at her bottom lip the way she always did when she was in _deep thought._

"What is it this time, Sarah?" The old schoolyard mind games were getting old really fast.

"Have you talked to Jax lately?" Tara nodded, her shoulders shrugging at the same time. "He mention anything about your father?"

_Huh?_

"What about my father?"

"Oh." Sarah winced. "He still didn't tell you."

"Tell me _what?_"

"Nothing," Sarah answered quickly, waving her hand. "It's nothing…Forget it. You should really try out for the team….I heard Donna tried out but didn't make the cut…I'm surprised actually. She's such a bundle of _perky_."

Tara didn't smile. "Leave her alone, Sarah. I'm serious. Leave _them _alone."

_Or I'll hold Donna's purse while she gives you the nose job you've been begging for since you got back._

"What is she, your new BFF?"

Tara's cell phone rang. And she was happy for the distraction.

She wasn't happy to hear Karen Monroe's voice on the other end, however.

"I have to go," Tara announced, flipping the phone shut seconds later. "I just got called in to work so now I have to rush home to change. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Tara walked off without waiting for an answer.

When she cut through the field, David looked up from his _personal training _session with Maize to gawk at her.

And Tara didn't slow her speed or miss a step.

Tara Knowles was _tapped_ out. She'd had enough drama for the day.

And she'd lied to Mr. Whitman, too—her temper wasn't going anywhere any time soon.


	13. Chapter 13

**Just a reminder to |FOLLOW| if you haven't already.**

**And leave a review for all the Chapters since this is a bulk-upload again.**

**FYI: **_Chapter 13 **&** 14_** are shorter than I usually post. I needed to fill in a little more back-story, without dragging it out because much like you guys i'm anxious to get back to the Tara&Jax of it all, **BUT** i don't want to write a story that reads like some kind of wish fulfillment or PWP (**shout out to **JaxandTaraFan** for cluing me in on a few unfamiliar terms lol**)**

**P.S: All you **Wendy** haters. I hated her on the show, too. with a PASSION that would make me sound like a psycho if i attempted to explain it to you. but the fun thing about fanfiction? you can do what you want with the characters. She's not around as much after Tara & Jax finally stop circling each other. But she **is **relevant to the end of the |PART 2| I have planned for you guys if i continue to get readers for this one. **

**Thank You for reading, guys. **

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Jax had been trying to get Tara's attention all period. He couldn't catch her eye when he first walked in. He tried talking to her, and she wouldn't even look in his direction.

She was completely spaced out.

Even worse, he couldn't even enjoy the view her V-neck blouse usually gave him _today_ because he'd spotted a hickey that wasn't on her collarbone _before _school started.

He knew her lunch wasn't until fifth period.

Was she cutting classes now, to hook up with her boyfriend?

He could practically feel the tension roiling off Tara's shoulders.

That shit just made him angrier. Not only was some clown hooking up with his…umm…_friend_.

The idiot wasn't even up to the damn task. That was _normally_ where Jackson Teller came in—but _this _lucky moron—whoever he was—had a girlfriend who wasn't up for a little fun on the side.

And even if she was, Jax really wasn't in the _sharing_ mood these days.

By the time the school bell signaled the end of third period math, Jax was convinced the girl sitting a row over from him suffered from some kind of multi-personality disorder. They were just fine on the school steps, and now Tara wouldn't even meet his eyes. It was just like before—he didn't exist.

It _couldn't _be about Sarah.

Tara set the terms herself—no more jealousy.

Besides, Jax knew Tara well enough to be able to tell when she was pissed _at_ him.

And this time it didn't feel like hostility.

Somehow he knew Tara ignoring him wasn't from a place of anger. She wasn't mad—not with him anyway. He knew _that _much.

But beyond that he had no clue what the problem was—what _her _problem was—and he still had four more classes to suffer through before he'd have her all to himself.

* * *

Tara wasn't in the cafeteria when he showed up.

_Wendy_ was—and as usual she made it her business to work her way under his skin.

Apparently that was just as much as fun as being under _him._

"Little word of advice," Wendy said, flipping a page over of the magazine in her hands. "If you're going to keep up this whole bullshit story about you and Tara being _just friends_ you might want to learn how to control your facial expressions."

Jax rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. "_Great_. My father's a shrink. And now you read faces."

"You're face fell in faster than one of my mother's attempts at baking a cake. You're gonna tell me that has nothing to do with Miss Know-it-all being a no-show in detention today?"

"_You know where she is_?" Jax asked before he could help himself.

Wendy smirked. "I don't even_ have_ to badger you Jax. You make my point for me every time." Wendy looked back down at the magazine resting on top of her crossed legs. "Mr. Whitman let her off the hook. I saw her on my way to history last period. She looked _sick_. I bet Ole' Wit thinks the whole overachiever thing is finally getting to her. _I think _she was faking it—especially given the phone conversation I overheard when I walked in the locker room to change for gym earlier. Tara's a smart bitch _just like I said_. She has Mr. Whitman feeling _sorry_ for adding more pressure on her." Looking up at him Wendy's eyes flashed with humor. "Or _maybe_ little Tina the freshman isn't the _only_ student Mr. Whit is slipping it to."

"You're gonna want to be _real careful _about the shit you say about her," Jax growled. "That's how rumors get started….and people tend to get _hurt_ when that happens."

"Is that an order, _Sargent _Teller?" Wendy laughed. "Poor sucker…I hate seeing you off your game. You lost your mojo, Jax. Whatever happened to no one being immune to the _Teller Charm_? It seems like _you're _the one under some kind of spell."

"You're a real annoying bitch sometimes." Jax pulled the loose cigarette from behind his ear. He briefly scanned the room for teachers before he remembered that he really didn't give a shit.

"_Ouch_." Wendy awarded both his insult and the thinly veiled _threat_ he aimed towards her with mock-hurt. "And to _think_ I was going to do you a favor and tell you where to find her…"

"_Where is she_?"

Jax was _way_ past caring about how he looked, how he sounded.

_It's the Chase. It's _gotta _be the Chase. Me, wanting what I can't have._

_That's all it is._

_That's all it _can _be._

___Jax _knew what Tara was doing to him—or at the very least he knew whatever it was, was something unfamiliar, something he'd never experienced with any other girl.

But the fact that _everyone else _was picking up on it, too?

That was a tough pill to swallow.

He needed to figure this shit out and the only way he was going to do that was if he talked to the source of the..._whatever._

Tara Knowles was jamming him up—in more ways than one.

"Why don't you just ask _Opie_?" Wendy jeered.

Wendy wasn't even pretending to read the magazine anymore.

"I'm asking _you._"

"That's right, Jax. And now I'm asking _you_."

_What?_

"What the hell are you—"

"Tell me the _truth_," Wendy said simply. "Admit that you're _into _her and I'll tell you where she went."

_Jesus Christ. _"Aren't you and Gemma gossip buddies? I've already been through this shit with her. Me and Tara are _friends. _Nothing more."

_No matter what _I _want. _

_Not that I actually know what the hell it _is _I want._

Wendy's chuckle made Jax want to wring her neck. "_Fine, _Jax. _Whatever._ I don't even know why I bothered. She's at Lumpy's."

_HUH?_

"Lumpy's _gym_?"

The last time Jax had been there _was_ with Tara. He used to spar with her in the ring, then sit back and watch her kick all the other boys asses.

But that was years ago, before the Club started letting him and Opie use the boxing ring on the lot. Before they'd had their falling out and she stopped coming around.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "No, she's at his _house_...Didn't you hear? I'm not the only one with daddy issues. He's helping her work them out," she said, wriggling her eyebrows. Whatever she saw in Jax's eyes, sobered her playful mood instantly, because she quickly added, "I _overheard_ her phone call remember? She asked if she could come by his gym later. _Sheesh. _It's like no one can take a joke around here anymore."

Jax turned around, to walk out of the cafeteria without so much as a goodbye.

He had to find Tara—figure this shit out ASAP.

He didn't find what she was doing to him funny _at all._

His hand was reaching for the door when he heard Wendy say, "Jax, _wait." _

It was the lack of mirth in her tone that made him look back. "What?" he said, his voice only half as hard as it would have been.

"Remember when you said you and Ope would come over one day..._repaint _my bedroom for me._.._I need you to do it _today_."

_Aw, shit. _"Wendy," Jax said, blowing out a heavy breath. "You need to let me tell the Club—"

"I said _NO—"_

Jax's eyes blazed. "—that _asshole _shouldn't even be _in _Charming...let alone dealing to—"_  
_

"It's not about him.._or_ my mom," she argued, cutting him off again. "I just need you to—"

Jax held up a hand to her. "—Look, Darlin' as much I'd _love_ to be...I'm not a patched member yet. There's only so much _I_ can do. Sooner or later me being John Teller's son ain't gonna hold as much weight as you think. Especially now that he knows I'm not bringing it back to them. I _promise _it won't blow back on you or your mom...Just let me tell them...for _your own sake._ Not because I'm afraid to handle it on my own."

Wendy paused, looking down at her nails. When she looked back up at him, for a second Jax thought he'd finally gotten through to her. But then that same defiance glazed over her dark brown eyes, and she set her jaw. "You don't even have to paint. Just come keep company until—just for a little while, okay? You'll be back to trailing after _Tara_ in no time." Jax grimaced at the bite in her voice when she said Tara's name.

Wendy didn't _get_ jealous. They never had that kind of relationship. She hated feelings more than he did, so he knew that wasn't it.

_That asshole must have really scared you the last time he showed up._

"You promised me _that, _Jax. You said whenever I...look are you coming over or _not_?"

This was why Jax knew he could never be a superhero—chivalry was way too big of a pain in the ass.

"I said I _would_, didn't I? Call me if—_when_ you need me. _I got you._"

"Thanks," Wendy said, smiling as she began flipping through the magazine again. Without looking up, she waved him away. "That's all I wanted...Feel free to go find your _friend._"

Jax shook his head, grinning despite himself. "You're such a gash."

Wendy giggled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...Just go get her, _Charming."_


	14. Chapter 14

**Try not to _assume _anything. Just go with it. All will be revealed...eventually :)**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

_"I'm not risking my career just because you're a little cock tease," Jacob Hale yelled, tossing the gavel in his hand down on the dimly lit office's desk. He yanked the black robe on his back open, shrugging his shoulders out of it. "You're nothing but trouble. Just like those SAMCRO boys you're always running behind. I honestly don't know why my Sarah is even….."_

"Keep your guard up, _Tare'_! Lumpy says you gotta step in more when you go for the punch…like _that_…exactly. Okay one more time all the way through…"

Cross, double jab—they danced around the ring, her brown ponytail swinging left to right, hair sticking to her forehead, sweat bleeding through her tank top.

Tara had been going at it for the past hour. She didn't know where she found the energy. It had been years since she set foot in a gym that wasn't Charming High School's.

Maybe it was the pent up rage.

Maybe it was the pounding in her eardrums, the adrenaline surging through her veins every time her gloved-fists connected with the pads on Lowell Jr's hands.

Maybe she was holding out hope that if she swung just a little faster, or just a little bit harder, it would drown out the memories flooding her brain—the thoughts she wanted to go away—the thoughts she'd locked away for so long.

_"No. You're not going to tell anyone_ anything_," the Judge spat. "__… I saw it with my _own_ eyes...you're_ lying..._that _didn't_ happen_..._you're twisting shit around..._" _Jacob Hale slammed his fist against the desk. "Goddamn it! __I'm _done ___discussing this..."_

"Okay, Tara. _Take it easy_." Lowell Jr.'s nervous laughter ripped through the air. It was almost distant, it didn't really register. Tara crossed again, landing a left-hook to the side of his head, narrowly missing his face as he bounded back out of reach.

She never stopped swinging.

_"…..And if I find out you're spreading lies again…I'll make sure you end up in a group home that makes that twelve-step deadbeat you call _daddy_ look like Father of the year in comparison." _

Lowell Jr. stopped moving, holding the pads in front of his face. Tara continued to lash out, ignoring every grunt that escaped him when each blow knocked the back of his hands against his poorly guarded face.

"Tara!"

_"…You still have to live in this town. You really want to go pointing fingers? Just take the money and let it go."_

"Hey, Tara," Lumpy's voice rang out in the distance. "How about you spare the boy a few of his brain cells? That's _enough._"

_"...You made the right choice, little girl." Tara watched as he walked towards the end table by the bookcase in the Hale Home's study. Jacob Hale sneered over at her, his eyes like ice as he poured scotch from the crystal tumbler in his hand. "...But I didn't ask you here to congratulate you on finally using your brain…..What you did—what you _tried _to do, that doesn't go unanswered. You could have cost me my career…and that was a _very _important relationship you ruined. You're gonna have to make it up to me…"_

"What the hell is he doing?" someone shouted.

"Letting a ninety pound girl beat the snot out of him," someone else answered, laughing.

Lowell wasn't _letting _Tara do anything.

His back was against the ropes. It was all he could do to hold off the undiluted rage lashing out at him. Through a tiny crack in between the pads, the lack of focus in her eyes—the faraway looked that glazed over the green made him sure that moving his hands even an inch would be a _very _bad idea.

_ "Gemma Teller…Sons of Anarchy's very own Matriarch. I _want _her. She's gonna pay for what happened to my daughter…"_

"_Alright,_ honey." Lumpy's voice had drawn closer. Tara jerked her shoulder back violently, shrugging off the hand that had gently pressed against it. "That's enough…_Tara_, stop it."

_"….None of the other kids are willing to talk…but _you _will, won't you Tara? ...For your sake I hope so because if you _don't_….my earlier threat still stands. I wonder if Jackson can convince his mother to take you in when your father loses his parental rights to the bourbon bottle that's always glued to his hand….and let's not even mention the _blow..._Drug addicts make the _worse_ parents…All it takes is a few ounces suddenly appearing in the glove compartment of his car…You think Jax could get his Old man to loan yours his lawyer?_"

Tara dropped her hands.

It was a brief moment of relief, when everyone in the room—including Lowell Jr.—thought that all their shouting for her to _STOP_ had finally gotten through to her.

But the second Lowell lowered the pads, Tara shoved against his shoulders. The gloves covering her hands were very likely the only reason they weren't wrapped around his neck.

Tara settled for punching him in his chest. Lowell slid down the ropes, to the floor, a wheeze escaping his throat just as Lumpy finally gave up on handling her with kid gloves and yanked her ass around, his hands digging into her shoulders as he shook her.

"Snap the hell out of it, kid!" Lumpy tapped an open palm across her face—it wasn't quite a slap, just a means of getting her attention. "_Jesus. _What the hell did LJ say to you?"

"Not a goddamn thing, Sir," Lowell choked out from behind her. "You _alright_, Tara?"

Tara blinked. And Lowell's words echoed in her head—it didn't just fly out of the other ear like before.

_You're seriously asking _me _if _I'm _alright after what I just did to you?_

She might have thought too many blows to the head had scrambled his brain, if not for the concerned look in Lowell Jr.'s eyes when she turned back to look at him.

Tara quickly averted his worried gaze, looking around her.

Everyone in the gym was staring at her like she'd grown two extra heads.

Suddenly, she felt naked.

"I'm fine," Tara mumbled.

"You _sure_?"

"_Positive_," Tara lied. "I gotta go. I was only supposed to stay an hour."

_That Karen bitch is going to be on my case if I show up for the shift—I shouldn't have in the _first _place—late._

Tara stalked off, ignoring the question in the eyes of the former boxing champ, turned gym owner. The whistle around Lumpy's neck swung up and back onto the middle of his chest as she breezed past him, avoiding his eyes.

Why the hell did she push so hard for David to open up to her?

All it did was dredge up old shit she didn't want to deal with.

_I guess this is what I get for being a hypocrite._

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Tara was rushing out of the locker room. She started towards the gym before she remembered how she'd embarrassed herself, spacing out in front of everyone. Deciding it would be best to avoid them altogether she switched gears and headed towards the back exit, gym bag in one hand, school bag tossed over her shoulder.

her cell phone rang. Karen's voice in her ear, twice in the same day was the perfect cherry on top of the spoiled sundae that was her day today.

When she hung up the phone-silencing the migraine-inducing red head's voice-she had at least one silver lining to cling to. Turns out Amber showed up for her shift after all. Tara didn't have to come in any more.

Karen knew she usually showed up to work early, so it would have been nice if she didn't wait until the _last minute_ to call her with the change of work schedule. But she'd caught her just in time, and being off the clock meant she could go home to a empty, stress-free house for a change.

She couldn't find fault in that.

Tara shoved the cell phone back down into the inside pocket of her bag. She was readjusting the strap across her chest when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, followed by a hand curling around her face to cover her eyes.

By the time he said, "_Guess Who?," _Tara's elbow was already flying backwards. Her bag had already slid off her shoulders, falling to the ground, the contents spilling out onto the concrete. Reflexively she tossed her gym bag aside to free her hands.

When she spun around, it was the familiar ocean blue eyes locking with hers that halted both the _flight_ and the _fight _response drumming through her system.

It was the "_Jesus Christ," _and the familiar voice saying it, that stopped the anger at being surprised in its tracks.

It was the subtle awe and outright shock in his expression that momentarily rendered her speechless.

And it was the sight of Jackson Teller holding a hand over his face that had her _laughing_ through the embarrassment she felt at almost losing her shit yet again.


	15. Chapter 15

******LOVE you,** HATE****** you, LOVE to** hate****** you, HATE that i** love****** you, **Angsty-**lusty**-lovey-**make-a-me**-_crazy_****** rollercoaster ride.**

******That's** my **Jax & Tara, folks.**

**|F**OLLO**W|**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

_"Hey, Jax!" _Lowell Jr. shouted out when he stepped in through the gym's front doors.

Jax paused, cocking his head to the side, blue eyes squinting at the angry knot forming above the lanky teenager's right eye.

_ "What's up, Teller?" _

Jax looked up to see a guy he recognized from the few times he bothered to show up to his History class. Jax held a hand up at him briefly, using the same one to tap the top of Lowell's head as he brushed past him.

"Hey, _LJ_." _Good to see you're still not giving up on boxing, despite the fact that you can't fight your way out of a paper bag._

_"_It's about time you showed your face in here again," another boy whose name Jax couldn't remember commented as he walked past the ring in the center of the room.

Jax nodded his head at _him _and the crowd of other voices shouting greetings, and questions—even a few challenges in his direction.

Ignoring them, Jax scanned the crowd for _one _face in particular, his eyes briefly lingering on the empty ring in the corner of the room—_their_ ring—before his eyes locked with a man he hadn't seen or spoken to since Junior high school.

_"Where the hell you been, Jackson?" _Lumpy yanked the blonde haired teen into a bear hug, slapping him hard on the back.

"I'm good, Sir," Jax said, smirking to himself. He didn't even call his _father _Sir. Shrugging it off, Jax cleared his throat, wasting no time asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since he walked in. "_Is Tara still here?_"

Lumpy shook his head, chuckling. "_Figures. _I knew there had to be a reason for you showing up here out of the blue. You and the Knowles kid still thick as thieves then, huh?"

"Something like that," Jax answered. _We're getting there at least. _

_Well _I _am. _

Lumpy nodded, his face suddenly serious, as he looked towards the boxing ring in the corner of the room. "I hadn't seen her back here in a while either." Lumpy looked back over at Jax. Then almost as if he couldn't help himself, a small smile resurfaced—a sad smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes but not for lack of trying. "Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm…_you _were Pebbles of course," he teased. "I kind of missed you two sparring here after school."

Jax laughed, despite the worry creeping into his bones. "I think you miss watching me get my ass kicked by a girl."

Lumpy nodded instead of responding. For a moment he stared off towards the back of the gym where Jax knew the locker rooms were.

"Is she here?" Jax prompted, repeating the question he never bothered to answer.

"That girl's got more fight in her than half the high school boys I train every day. _Hell, _even some of the grown men who come in here." Lumpy pulled the hand towel draped over his shoulder, wiping beads of sweat that weren't really there off of his forehead. "...She flipped out on Lowell Jr. a couple minutes ago…it was like she was…" Lumpy stopped short, peering over at Lowell Jr., who was icing the side of his face.

Jax didn't like where the conversation was going.

Whenever an adult got all reflective on him instead of answering his damn question he knew there was a reason for them stalling—one that he _really _wasn't going to like.

"Look, Lumpy, I—" Jax's words died on his tongue when the man turned a tentative gaze towards him.

The man had something he wanted to say to Jax. And clearly whatever it was, made him uncomfortable for whatever reason.

"I don't even have to ask you if you care about her… it's written all over your face, son…And I'm not saying this to scare you _or_ because I want you repeating my words later, understand?" Jax nodded. "There's always a reason behind that kind of…_energy. _I don't know what she's fighting…or _who _but I know it's not Junior over there."

Jax was started to feel like a broken record as he again asked, "Where is she?"

Finally.

Lumpy nodded towards the back of the gym. Jax tapped him on the shoulder, making a beeline for the locker room.

"Hey, _Jax._" Lumpy called from behind him. Reluctantly, Jax turned back around to face him. "I always liked that kid. She used to bring extra flowers for my Laurie when she visited her mom in the hospital...a real sweet heart, that one. Look out for her, will ya?"

Jax nodded once. _Always, _he thought.

He turned back around just in time to see the backdoor to the gym swing shut, a flash of brown hair disappearing from view.

* * *

Jax didn't have to sprint very far before he caught up with her. When he pushed through the doors leading out into the back alley, Tara was shoving her cellphone deep down into her bag—leaned over, the fabric of her usual jeans of choice fit snug against her in all the right places.

Jax was convinced her obsession with tight shorts was _just_ to torture him.

She was in her own little world as usual. And as she snap the clips of her bag shut he had the overwhelming urge to sneak up on her like he used to do when they'd leave the gym this way.

Giving the way she was acting in school and whatever Lumpy had hinted at back in the gym, common sense _should_ have told him that wasn't the brightest idea.

Live and learn.

Jax rushed towards her, the soles of his white Nike's barely tapping against the concrete. As soon as he was close enough he threw a hand over her eyes.

He'd barely gotten the, "Guess who?" out before he was flying backwards, the force of the blow to his mouth throwing him off balance.

"_Jesus Christ, _Tara," Jax exclaimed, his voice muffled behind his hand.

Tara spun around to face him.

Jax pulled his hand away from his lips to assess the damage. Blood stained his fingertips, the metallic taste pooling on the tip of his tongue. Looking up at her, he smiled as he watched her keel over laughing. "You know," he said, "for two people that don't get along, you and my mother have a lot in common. You _love _busting people in the face."

"_Oh, Shit," _Tara said, her eyes widening. She'd finally noticed the blood dripping from his mouth. "I'm sorry, Jax...but you _scared _me."

"I can see that," Jax responded, twisting his jaw from side-to-side. _I can _feel _that shit, too._

Tara opened her bag back up, pulling a pack of tissues from it. She pulled one from the pack, dabbing at the cut on his lip.

"You're alright, Teller," Tara said, giggling when he winced. "I doubt I'm the first girl to make you bleed. And with your track record I won't be the last either."

"I could press charges on you, you know." Jax's smile belied the threat.

Tara shrugged. "You think you're the only tough one, _Outlaw_? I'll have you know I can hold my own against my future cellmate Big Bertha."

Jax cocked an eyebrow. "I could just _sue _you instead. I bet your Old man wouldn't like that too much."

Tara scoffed. "For _what? _We don't have any money."

"Well…I've had my eye on that Cutlass for a while now…"

Tara gasped, green eyes widening. "Oh _no_! Not the _Cutlass_! Whatever will I used to pick my drunk daddy up from the bar with on Saturday night?"

Was her father the reason she was acting strange?

Jax needed answers…like yesterday.

But she seemed so happy to be around him—even if it took an elbow to his face to get her there.

He wanted to hold off on the confrontation just a little bit longer.

"I'm willing to accept a settlement," Jax commented, still playing along.

"Oh _yeah_?" Tara crumpled the bloody tissue in her hand, tossing it towards the dumpster to the side of them, completely oblivious to the fact that it didn't make it in. Smiling over at him she asked, "What's _that_ look like?"

Jax pointed to his swelling bottom lip. "You could just _kiss _it better," he teased, winking at her.

Jax found himself shuffling his feet, making sure she didn't knock him off balance—again.

But this time the blow didn't come from a reflexively lashed out elbow.

It was the way her green eyes darkened, that flirty smile spread across her face as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

Slowly, she moved in close to him, closing the gap until he could see the miniature flecks of brown swirling in the olive green of her eyes. Slanting her head, she leaned into him, her hand reaching around to the spot where his neck and the back of his head met. Jax was immobile, save for the rapid inhale and exhale of his lungs when she pulled his face down to hers.

There wasn't even a full inch between their mouths, the tips of their noses touching. Tara eyes fluttered closed.

_Then_—just as she leaned in that _last_ tenth of an inch her lips slipped past his, just barely grazing his jawline, all the way towards his ear. Her breath tickled his earlobe as she whispered softly, "_I guess I'll see you in court then, Teller_."

Tara pulled back, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Jax found himself more amused than frustrated for once.

"You're such a cock tease," Jax joked.

Tara's face fell immediately.

And that was when he remembered why he sought her out in the first place.

"Shut up," Tara said, shoving his shoulder playfully. And her smile was back just that quick, but it was too late. He'd already seen her initial reaction.

He just didn't have the slightest clue what the hell it was about.

Forced or not, even the slightest twinkle in her eyes when she smiled at him made Jax regret what Lumpy said to him.

It made him regret that it was just one more thing to add to the list of questions he had to ask her.

Questions he knew would quickly wipe that pretty smile off her face—whether it was fake or not.

"What?" Tara asked when he stared at her, as he gnawed at the corner of his bruised lip.

What_ is going on with you?_

What _the hell are WE doing?_

What _the hell are you doing to ME?_

_What question do I even ask you first?_

WHAT, indeed.

Jax chose the easiest—easiest for _him_—subject first. It was the one freshest in his mind.

He nodded his head toward the brick, outside wall of the gym. "I spoke to Lumpy. You want to tell me what happened in there today?"

Jax knew he'd have to say goodbye to her smile.

He knew a frown would take its place soon after.

Then—he thought—Tara would do what she normally did when he confronted her about anything.

Get angry and curse him out.

Avoid his eyes until she could come up with lie.

Maybe even look up towards the sky, trying to come up with a way to change the subject altogether.

Any of the three were right in his wheelhouse.

Jax was prepared for all of the above.

What he _wasn't _prepared for was the deer-in-the-headlight look that flashed in her eyes like he was a mack-truck zooming towards her on the freeway.

What he wasn't prepared for was the _fear_—not anger—that took place of the shock in her expression the second her initial reaction faded.

And what he _definitely_ wasn't prepared for were the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes.

Zero _to_ sixty.

He'd managed to get her from playful to tormented at the flip of a switch.

Jax had found the _one _trigger he _never_ wanted to pull.

Not with _her_.

Jax was sure he'd made plenty of girls cry at some point or other. He never did it purposely but he couldn't bring himself to actually care too much either.

But _this_—watching Tara cry? It made him feel like he deserved another elbow to the face.

"What the hell is _wrong _with you, Tara?"

Wrong question? Maybe.

Wrong wording? _definitely._

But it didn't matter if it was _both _offenses. Whatever wrong it was made it _worse. _

Tara completely lost it—and every sob that rocked through her was another shot to his chest. Jax reached to pull her into a hug.

Tara jumped back, away from him, and he found his hands flying up above his head in mock surrender.

Jax was completely helpless to the storm he'd just started and he didn't have the slightest clue how to weather it—or who to hurt for being the cause of it in the first place.

Was it her dad?

He hoped not, because Jax was just about _done_ playing nice with shitty fathers. He wouldn't hesitate to crack the bottle always in his hand over Arthur's head if he had _anything _to do with the breakdown unfolding in front of his widening, blue eyes.

"Tara, what's—" She shook her head, No.

No, what?

"_Tara._" Jax tried reaching for her again. This time she let him. He wrapped an arm around her, resting the palm of his hand against the middle of her back. His other hand reached up to her face, padding his thumb across her tearstained cheeks in gentle strokes. "What is it, _babe?_ It doesn't matter what it is...you can tell me."

"I'm sorry, Jax," Tara choked out. "I know you t-t-think I lost-tt my damn mind."

_Right now I _really_ do, but after seeing what you did to Lowell—with his headgear ON—I think it's better for the rest of my face if I don't cop to it right now._

"Of course, not," Jax said. "Just tell me what's wrong? What did I say? Did I do—"

There was that head shaking again. "—you didn't do anything. _I_ did….I'm sorry, Jax. All this time I've been blaming you…putting it all on your father when JT was never the problem…not really..."

Jax couldn't resist running a hand through the top of her hair, hoping she didn't notice as the scrunchie that was barely holding her ponytail in place, fell to the ground. He implored her to continue with his eyes. When she mumbled the words, "It was _Hale,_" it didn't matter which one she was talking about.

His temper flared automatically, and he had to force himself to reign in his reaction before he flipped out and scared her quiet.

"Is this about Sarah?" Jax doubted she would say _Hale _if she was talking about her best friend since elementary school but just to be sure he had to ask.

Tara shook her head. "Her father."

Jax didn't think he could get any angrier—he was _wrong._

"What did that asshole do now?" _Tell me step by step so I have my motive right when the cops ask me why I cut the break lines on that piece of shit car he drives._

"He threatened me."

_Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen—fuck this. That counting backwards shit doesn't work._

"Threatened you _how?_" Jax said through his teeth.

"When that whole thing went down with Sarah…everyone thought I recanted my statement because of you…they thought I did it to protect you. And I won't deny it anymore, Jackson. It's the truth. No matter how much I can't _stand _that woman I'd never do anything that would take your mother away from you," Tara admitted. "But you weren't the _only _reason I did it…"

_So all this time you've been lying about my father? _

_I cursed him out, turn my back on him because of you…and now you're telling me…_

"You told me you lied to the cops because my father threatened you." Jax tried and failed to keep the hardness of his voice.

It was an accusation plain and simple—there was no putting lipstick on this pig.

Tara's eyes flashed with guilt that made him want to run away the way _she _usually did. If this was the truth he didn't want to hear it anymore.

Before Jax could give into the impulse to walk away from her, Tara sighed, her lips spreading into a sad smile. "JT _did_ threaten me… or at least Clay Morrow wanted me to _think _so. Either way it didn't matter. SAMCRO was never the real problem….and I _never _believed your father would hurt me. Gemma? _Most definitely.__" _Jax chuckled lightly at that. "But not your dad..._You wouldn't let him._"

Jax nodded in agreement.

So she _hadn't _lied about the Club. But the brief relief that washed over him didn't last very long because now he was confused again.

Jax's eyes said it all even as he used his words to confirm the question swirling in them. "_What happened, Tara?_"

"I didn't recant my statement because I was scared," Tara said. "….I did it because I never wanted to talk to the cops in the first place."

When Jax's eyebrows threaded together, Tara sighed, raking a nervous hand through her hair.

"Here's the _truth,_" Tara continued. "I love Sarah…she was my best friend and despite whatever issues she has…she's not a bad person…but her father is a sadistic asshole…and she's _daddy's little girl_. And no matter what, nothing is _ever_ her fault….When she overdosed her dad tried to _bribe me_ with adoption papers. And when I told him how I really felt…that I was worried about leaving my dad…or trying to replace my mother… he threatened to file a complaint against my father with child protective services. He told me he would ruin my life if I didn't help him…so I _did_." Tara looked away before she could Jax's nostrils flaring. "….I thought it was about Sarah…thought maybe he was just lashing out because his daughter almost died...I thought that I could still trust him—maybe not as a person…but as a man of the law at least." Jax scoffed, and Tara's eyes shot back to his face. Tara nodded. "I _know…._now I do anyway…back then I still thought I could come to him with…."

"With _what?" _Jax prompted.

Tara shook her head. "You_ know what?_ It doesn't matter. I changed my mind, simple as that. I reversed my statement—the one I was _forced _to make because…because _fuck him, _that's why."

_This is why you keep running from me? _

_Because you're scared I'm going to walk away first? _

_That I'll hold it against you for lying when you were just doing it to protect yourself?_

Heat built up in Jax's chest. Watching the pain—all the guilt that flashed in her eyes before she shuttered them made him hot all over. His own anger could have very well been the thing that dried up the last of her tears.

"Jacob Hale…Arthur Knowles…_your mother," _Tara whispered, looking down at her left hand as she doled out a new finger for each person she named. "…I don't what the hell is wrong with me, Jax….but for some reason I just can't seem to catch a break with _anyone's_ parents. Not even my own." Tara's laugh was incredibly bitter. "My mom was the only one that gave a shit…. and she's been in the ground since I was eight. I guess Jacob Jr. was right. _I really am an orphan._"

Jax didn't know what to say to her.

Jacob Hale was a _snake. _

He'd known it when she used to tell him about all the trips he took her and Sarah on to Disney land when they were younger. He just didn't want to start an argument for telling her the truth. He knew he'd never win with someone as stubborn as Tara. And even when they were kids she was always loyal to a fault. Tara was the type that had to learn from experience. She ignored what people said and watched what they did instead.

She was right about her father, too—Arthur cared more about drinking away his pain than staying sober long enough to care for his own daughter.

And God, help him, but she was definitely right about his mother—that woman hated even deeper than she loved and she _never _gave Tara a chance.

Tara had just given Jax yet another reason to want to pound Judge Hales face against that self-righteous bench he sat on every day.

Everything she said was _true_.

He couldn't argue against _any _of it. So he did what he _could _do.

Jax pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her.

All he could do was hug her and hope the embrace was enough to ease some of the pain—enough to show her that _he _gave a shit even if no one else was smart enough to see her for what she was—_beautiful_.

Confused and moody twenty-four-seven? Yep.

Short tempered and more than a little judgmental at times? Hell, yeah.

But she was still beautiful—horns and all.

And intelligent—even if she was a know-it-all.

And strong as hell—even if she broke down in back alleys.

Tara was also the Queen of deflection and avoidance.

But on a _good _day, Jax caught on before the dust cleared from her taking off before he could realize she'd done it _again_.

Jax pulled back slightly. Arms still around her, he looked into her eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the peacefulness he saw in them. The lightness in her shoulders.

Just a moment though. That's all you ever got with Tara before she threw you off course.

He had to strike now.

"Remember when you said I probably think you're out of your mind? I _don't._ I know you're not crazy, Tara." Jax brushed her hair back. It wasn't really in her face, he just couldn't resist touching some part of her. Like her face. He curved his hand under her chin, thumb brushing her cheek. "You're not crazy…but I'm not _stupid _either….that's not the only reason you freaked out on me just now…what aren't you telling me?"

Tara pulled away from him, looking down at the ground. "You really going to make me have this conversation _here…_behind Lumpy's gym?"

Jax shrugged. "We can go where ever you want, babe. But you gotta talk to me."

"Not now, Okay?"

_And they call me Prince _Charming. _How charming can I be if I can never get the women in my life to do what the hell I say?_

Jax sighed loudly. "_Tara—_"

"I'm not saying not _ever_." Tara looked up at him, green eyes locking with blue. "I just…I need to do it in smaller doses…It's been a while since you've been the one I talk to about this kind of stuff…"

_I guess I have my Old Man to thank for that._

Tara paused. But when she seen Jax's grimace, she quickly added, "I'm not saying we can't get back there…it's just going to take a minute, ya know? Besides…I already told you the worst of it…I got over _it. _I just think it's the keeping everything a secret that's stressing me out..."

Jax really wanted to know what _it _was and w_ho _it had to with.

Intuition was telling him this particular incident had nothing to do with the good Judge of Charming County—or at the very least he wasn't the _only _one to blame.

Instead of giving her the third degree—like he wanted to—Jax simply nodded, afraid of what he might say if he tried to put his thoughts into words right now.

"You working tonight?" Jax asked after a moment of them just standing there.

Jax hoped that maybe if he took her to that park they used to go to, hang out for a little while she'd open up and tell him _everything_.

Tara smiled. "I just got a phone call that says I'm not."

"Cool. Maybe we could go—"

"_Tara? _What are you doing out"—Jax turned around, eyes locking with his best friend—"_Oh. _Okay…now it makes sense." Opie walked towards them. He started to say something to Jax but then he did a double take, squinting his eyes at Tara's face. "Are you.._crying?"_

"It wasn't me, bro," Jax joked lamely.

"What happened?" Opie asked.

Tara shrugged. "Just sharing some history that's all…"

_Kind of…_some_ of it anyway…not _ALL.

Jax's eyes darted between Tara and Opie as a silent message passed between the two of them.

He had to swallow the urge to kick something—or better yet, some_one_.

Opie turned towards him. "Is your phone off or something? Wendy called me…said something about how she doesn't need you to help her paint today…she needs you to stop by _tomorrow_ and do it. You moonlighting as a carpenter now?"

Jax patted down his jean pockets, ignoring Opie's confused stare. "_Shit. _I think I left it at the front desk inside."

"_I'll get it for you," _Tara volunteered. Clearing her throat, she added, "I need to ask Lumpy something anyway…I'll meet you at the truck, Ope."

Opie nodded, smiling at her as she walked past him.

Jax glared over at his best friend. "You her _personal_ chauffer now?"

"Until you get your Harley next month I'm_ your _chauffer, asshole.…she lives next door to me, remember? She asked me to drop her here for an hour. I had to go fill Piney's prescription and wait for it anyway so I told her I'd swing by and pick her back up so she didn't have to walk. _That's all it is, _bro."

Jax gave him a stiff nod. "My bad, Ope. This shits not even on you…she still won't talk to me, not like she did before."

"She's a _chick_, man. Being difficult is what makes them females."

Jax chuckled. "You're probably right…but me and Tara? We're getting there though."

Opie nodded. "Well until you _do_ get there…._I got her, bro_."

Jax patted his best friend on his shoulder, walking off before he could see the slight bitterness in his expression.

"_Hey, Jax_."

Jax made sure to fix his face before looking back. "Yeah?"

"You riding with us, right?"

"That's the plan."

"Well when we get to the house, do me a favor and keep Donna company for a little while. She's already there…and I wanted to talk to Tara about something."

Jax cocked an eyebrow. "Something I should know?"

Opie shook his head just a little too fast. "It's all good, bro. It's just some shit with Donna…need a _chick's _opinion."

Opie was lying—and Jax knew it.

But he let it slide because what else could he do?

_Maybe if I convince the Club to ship _your_ ass off to Ireland, me and Tara will _get there_ faster._

_I love you, bro. But you're in _my_ spot. _

_I should have never left it open._

"No, problem, Ope. I got _you_."


	16. Chapter 16

**SEASON FIVE: Episode "**Laying Pipe**"…it broke my heart into a million pieces.**

**I loved Opie just as **much** as Tara & Jax. **

**As long as I write this fanfiction, he _will _live on.**

**Random it _may_ be…but that's all I have to say.**

**P.S: **I think I'll hold Chapters **17**, **18**, & **19** hostage for a little bit (so I've been _busy_ lol).

I want to see what _everyone_ thinks of **13-16 **first.

**- Veritable **Old Lady **Crow**

* * *

The drive to Opie's house was quiet. It was peaceful, too.

Or at least it _would _have been if Opie wasn't staring at her funny.

The first time he caught Tara's eye he looked at her like he thought she'd seize control of the steering wheel and run the truck off the road at any given moment.

The second time he looked at her like he was _worried _about something.

The _next_ time he caught her eye, he looked determined—like he'd finally made a decision about something…something to do with her.

Something Tara was pretty sure she wasn't going to like one bit.

Tara sat in the middle of the truck.

When she first leaned over towards Jax, resting her head on his shoulder, she started to convince _herself_ that she only did it to avoid Opie's weird stare-off.

But then Jax turned in towards her, sliding an arm behind her back pulling her in closer to him…and she forgot all about the excuse she'd been planning to make up in her head.

Tara briefly glimpsed Opie looking over at them through the corner of her eye. Before she could be petty and ask, "what the hell you looking at?" Jax rested his hand on her belly, casually sliding it under the her shirt, his thumb occasionally tickling her belly button as he drummed a massage against her bare stomach.

Tara pulled her head out of crook of his neck to look up at him.

Jax was facing straight ahead.

That _might _have made it seem like he was oblivious to what he was he doing—if he wasn't losing the battle to keep the smile off his face.

Opie parked in front of his house just in time.

Tara was seconds away from telling _Counselor Teller_ that she'd be willing to agree to his settlement.

David couldn't have been further from her mind right then.

She couldn't stop staring at the purpling bruise on his lips—the one _she'd _put there.

And she couldn't stop thinking about how badly she wanted to _kiss it better_.

* * *

Tara _heard _Donna before she saw her.

But then so did everyone.

The chick was harping before Opie could slam the front door all the way shut.

"_Twenty minutes_!" Donna shrieked. "You said you'd be back in twenty minutes…last time I checked twenty minutes didn't translate in to an _hour _and twenty. Where the hell you been, Ope? Did you run into _Sarah_ on your way to get—"

Donna skipped past the frustration in Opie's eyes _and _the humor in Tara's.

She didn't catch the laughter in Jax's eyes either.

She was too busy staring at his mouth. "Oh _shit. _What the fuck happened to your face?"

"A little misunderstanding," Tara joked as her and Jax looked at each other, laughing.

Donna's scowl was back. "You two make me s_ick. _Always with the back and forth. Are we on today or _off_? The whole Gerber baby _grins & giggle_ shit you got going says you're _on again_…but that _misunderstanding_ on Jax's face says off. Which is it?"

Jax eyes jumped to Opie, who was already shaking his head. "What's up with Tinkerbell?"

"I have _asked_ you to stop calling me that s_hit_!"

Opie grabbed a hold of Tara's arm, shooting his best friend a glare. "When _I'm_ done with her, you can ask Tara yourself. It's _her _fault."

Donna gaped at her boyfriend, as he walked past her, closing his bedroom door behind him.

"Where's the fire Ope?" Tara quipped. "I didn't _make _Sarah do anything so if—"

"—that's not what I want to talk to you about."

"What do"—Tara snapped her mouth shut. The look in his eyes told her _exactly _what he wanted to talk to her about.

_NOPE._

Tara craned her neck towards the window—as _if_ she could actually _see _her driveway from by his bed. "The Cutlass isn't in the driveway," Tara said as soon as Opie opened his mouth to speak.

"Tara—"

"—My dad must have left for work already...he's working the night shift until next week," Tara rambled. "Eureka…I can actually lay down in my own bed for once."

"I need to talk to you."

"You don't need _shit._"

"You told Jax about Jacob Hale." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Tara nodded once. "_Yes_, I did."

"Did you tell him _everything?_"

Tara's hand flew to her hip, as she rolled back on one foot. "Everything that _matters._"

When Opie paused, Tara hoped that was the end of it.

"Did you tell _me _everything?"

When would she learn that _hoping_ was for suckers?

"What do you want Opie?" Tara huffed.

"I'm trying to ask you something." There was that nervous look again.

Tara's eyes drifted towards the ceiling. "Then spit it out. I already have a headache as it is."

And spit it out he did.

"Donna was talking to this chick from her physics class and _she _said her boyfriend saw you go ape shit on Lowell Jr. Today…._and..._ I know Hale finally stopped hiding you. Some douche bag from my gym class was telling his buddies he saw you and him having sex in the parking lot…so _you're_ the one that's hiding from his family now. Did his father say—"

"—_Jesus Christ_. Whose idea was it to make high school look like fun on television? The reality is _bullshit_. Doesn't anyone have better shit to do with their lives than start rumors? What's next? They're gonna say I'm fuckin Mr. Whitman, too?"

"—well _actually—"_

_"—_And why is _your_ girlfriend always in my business?"

"It's not even about you, Tara. Donna's _all about gossip _all of a sudden. Sarah hasn't even been back a week and she's already twisting Donna up. And that was after _ten _minutes with her. You need to reign that bitch in right now."

"_Right_. Because I'm her keeper. I'll get right on it, _Harry._"

Opie's next words were blurted out fast.

It was like he was ripping a Band Aid off just to get the sting over with.

"_Were you raped?"_

"My GOD. Where the _fuck_ did that come from? Opie! You don't go around asking shit like that!"

"I'm sorry," Opie mumbled. "I didn't know how else to say it…you still didn't answer my question though….I was talking to Donna about what you told me before—

"_Of course_ you were," Tara growled. "Did you tell her my cup size, too?"

Opie wrinkled his nose. "Why the hell would I know anything about _your _breasts? Besides the fact that they're clearly still _in training_."

"_Asshole_." Tara giggled.

Opie joined in with her briefly—before he face-palmed himself. "How the fuck do you keep doing that?"

"What am I doing?"

"You _always _find a way to change the subject. Answer the goddamn question."

"_Geez_. I hope you never sign up for the academy. Your people skills suck. That would make you a shitty detective. No talking to the victims for _you. _Donna calls you her _Teddy-bear_? More like _grizzly _if you ask me..." Tara walked towards the window. "I'm going home to take a shower. Leave your window unlocked for me just in case my dad comes home early, okay?"

"Tara, I swear to _God_ if you take one more step towards that window I _will _tackle your stubborn ass."

"Yeah _right_," Tara scoffed. She didn't take another step though.

"You know I'll do it…and then I'll tie you and Donna up…_together_ and leave you with _her_ for an hour."

As far as threats go Tara had never heard one scarier.

Tara turned back around, meeting his eyes. "_No, _Opie…nothing happened. It wasn't even like—I stopped it, okay?"

"You stopped _what_?"

"It doesn't matter—"

"Like _hell _it doesn't!" Opie yelled. He looked back towards the closed bedroom door when Tara cringed.

_"What the hell is going on in there? Are y'all talking about that Sarah bitch? I swear to _GOD, _Opie—"_

_"Donna!" _Tara heard Jax exclaim_. "Just give them a minute." _Jax's raised his voice a little louder when he added—probably for Opie's benefit—_"You know he's probably going to tell you every damn thing later on _anyway_."_

_"He didn't _tell _me he was in love with that—"_

_"__—_OK…let's take a walk…if you want I'll take you by Teller Morrow. Sarah's new car is in the shop for detailing. If you shut up I'll let you scratch that shit up with my old man's Ka-Bar."

"Jax!" Opie yelled through the wall. "You better _not_!"

_Why the hell did you say _that?

Clearly Opie Winston had yet to learn that when something is left open to interpretation angry girlfriends tended to assume the w_orst case _scenario.

"_Why not, Opie! It's not like you still care about her RIGHT?"_

Tara could practically _feel_ Jax's laughter shaking the walls. She grabbed Opie's arm to stop him from walking out into the living room.

He stopped resisting when he heard the front door open and slam closed.

"You can kick Jax's ass later, Ope. And there's nothing you can say to _her_ that is getting through right now. _Trust me._"

Opie facial expression turned more serious than she'd ever seen it. "Do _you _trust _me?_"

Tara reached around, rubbing at the back of her neck. "Of course, I do."

"And you know I'll always have your back? I'm not talking about the Club…or Piney…or even Jax. You know that _I'll _always have your back?"

"I have yours, too Opie…that's why I'm trying to save you from your spaz of a girlfriend," Tara joked.

Opie didn't crack a smile. "You're never going to tell me who it was, _are you?"_

Tara looked over towards the mirror above his dresser. Opie followed her gaze, meeting her eyes there still. "My dad has signed legal documents that say I can't tell _anyone._"

"Why the hell not, Tara?"

Tara looked away from the mirror to meet his eyes directly this time.

The shrugging of her shoulders did nothing to lessen the redness in her cheeks, or the defeat in her tone. "We still had a lot of bills…from my mom. We were going to lose the house, Ope. _I made a decision_...and it's like you said. I need to learn to stick by the choices I make."

Opie's eyes widened. "So he _did—_"

"—No, Opie," Tara interrupted. "He _didn't. _I swear it didn't get that far…I didn't even look at it as attempted anything at the time. He was just a sloppy drunk that had a few too many Scotches _neat _and too few functioning brain cells to use good judgment" Opie's looked at Tara like she'd grown two heads when she started giggling. Shaking her head, she added, "It's kind of funny actually...whenever Jax _tries_ to help me, I won't let him. But when he's not trying to _at all_…he helps me anyway."

"You're doing that double speak thing again. I _hate it _when you do that."

"_I kicked his ass," _Tara barked. The pride in her eyes left no room to doubt what she said was true. "I don't have to put a name to him. He's a _pervert_. That's who he is in my head. He doesn't deserve a _name. _All you need to know is all that all those hours in the ring with Jax taught me a few things. Sparring with _Prince Charming _served a purpose…he was _drunk_ and I was _fast. _By the time Hale walked in he had to get _me _off of _him_."

Opie's breath hitched.

Tara almost stepped back when she saw the fury in his eyes. "That asshole knew who—he s_aw it _and he still—_he made you_"—Opie threw his hands up. They landed in a tent on top of the beanie on his head. "I should have told Pop the _whole_ truth when he asked me—"

"—No you _shouldn't _have. The Club couldn't be involved. What about Sarah? Or David? What about his _wife_? Gloria never did _anything _to me. _Jesus,_ Opie. Don't you realize all that Outlaw shit blows back on other people? _Innocent _people. That would have been the _last_ thing I wanted. Jacob Hale might care _more_ about maintaining his political ties than doing the right thing but that doesn't make him—"

"—make him _what_?" Opie growled. He started pacing around the room. "Responsible for manipulating a teenager to keep her mouth shut just so he could keep his status. I _know _it was someone from the City Council...or maybe one of his other golf buddies. They're all the same. _Whoever_ this asshole is you're protecting—"

"—I am _not _protecting him. Legally I have—"

"—he didn't just make a pass at you, or grab your arm a little too tight. _He tried to_—"

"—he was _drunk_—"

"SO _FUCKIN _WHAT! That doesn't—"

"—_he thought I was Sarah._"

Opie froze mid-step. "What?"

Tara crossed an arm over her chest, rubbing at her shoulder. "It happened during one of Mrs. Hale's fundraisers…I snuck into the study…Sarah was supposed to keep her father distracted while I stole the extra bottle of Scotch he had hidden in his bottom desk drawer… I was looking for the key…didn't want to turn the lights on in case they looked up at the window from the back patio…_he _walked in…and then…you know.."

Opie shook his head. "That _still_ doesn't explain—"

"—she was sleeping with him." Opie's eyes widened. "Yeah, I know right? Who said daddy issues had to come from a _neglectful_ father?"

"So he didn't actually—but then why would he pay you to—what the hell do you mean he _thought _you were Sarah?"

_I really hope you're still angry because of _me _and not because you went over the timeline in your head and figured out _who _Sarah was supposed to be dating at the time._

_You're supposed to be over her, remember, Ope?_

"_Look. _I let him know I wasn't Sarah pretty quickly when I tore his hands away from my ass…but then he went from apologizing to slurring about how _we looked just like sisters, _telling me some twisted bullshit about how Sarah was a _bad girl…_asking me if I was _bad like her…_if I would be _bad for him_…"

Opie held up his hand. "I don't want to hear that shit. All I want to know is—"

"—_he pissed me off, okay?_ He's a creep. Sarah was already on my shit list for playing you and Jax off each other. Then I find out she has a grandpa fetish on top of everything else. I was _pissed_ at her, too. What do I usually do when I'm pissed off, Opie? _I run my mouth off, _that's _what_! I told him to get the hell away from me, and maybe that _alone _would have been fine but I just couldn't stop myself from telling him he was disgusting…and calling him a _two-pump chump_. My mouth got me in trouble…_as usual._"

"That didn't give him the right to—" Opie cut his rant short when Tara held up her _own _hand this time.

Waving him off, she said, "You can spare me the _It wasn't your fault _speech. I appreciate, Ope but I don't need convincing….people like to throw words around like stuck-up...know-it-all…Nerd-vana…or _cock tease…_and on a bad day it gets to me. But in this case it doesn't matter. I _know _it wasn't my fault. _None of it was. _I just wanted you to understand what set him off...who knows if that was even what he wanted to do...all he did was grab me and spin me around..._and my fists were already balled up and waiting for him..._it was hush money to stop a scandal..._any _scandal...even if he _didn't_ grab me I could have still reported him for Sarah...silly me, I thought the respectful thing to do would be to go to her father first...that he'd come _with _me to the precinct...but as usual _his _Sarah would _never _do such a thing...she's _daddy's little girl..._Uncle Touchy paid me off and Judge Hale blackmailed me for telling the truth...and then I _called his bluff._" Tara locked eyes with Opie. "You know the rest...it was _my choice _remember? I chose Jax...just like I'm _choosing _to let David go on believing his father's a good man."

There was a pregnant pause when neither of them said anything. Tara watched Opie's face—she watched the different emotions morphing into each other.

Anger. Concern. Confusion. Anger _again. _Then he finally stopped. His face was neutral just long enough for Tara to exhale.

"You didn't tell Jax _any_ of this, did you?" Opie blurted out suddenly. The question didn't sound confrontational—it was more like him needing a confirmation.

_Goddamn it._

Tara shook her head. "I'm not going to either. And _you_ better not_._"

Opie rolled his eyes. "Have I _ever_ told him anything?" Tara cocked an eyebrow, and Opie quickly shook his head. "You sleeping over here doesn't count. He saw you coming out of my bedroom window." Opie looked down at the carpet. "Sarah was _one _thing…Jax didn't know how I felt about her when he was hooking up with her…and he's my _brother_…I know him better than anyone," Opie admitted. Then he looked back up at Tara, his lips twitching at the corners. "That's how I _know_ he wouldn't have given me a chance to explain if he thought I was hooking up with _you. _Telling him was for the sake of our friendship."

"I don't know why you think—"

"_Shut the hell up, _Tara. You're killing me with the denial…how about you treat _me _to smaller doses of _that _shit?"

_You fuckin eavesdropper._

Tara's eyes narrowed. "Are we done with this little heart to heart?"

"_Almost."_

Tara folded her arms across her chest, shooting him a look that said _Well? Get on with it already._

"You want to let the past stay buried..._fine. _But what about the Present? When are you going to tell Jax you're dating David?"

Tara scowled. "I s_wear _you and Donna are Cupid-Dee and Cupid-_Dumb…._You're the dumb one in case that wasn't clear."

"If you let him find out from someone else"—_I'm guessing you mean Sarah—"_you know him, Tara. He's going to take it as a betrayal…and you're gonna drag _me_ down with you."

"It's not even a big deal," Tara argued, rolling her eyes.

"Then why won't you tell him?"

"Because it's none of his damn _business,_" she hissed.

Opie chuckled. "Poor David. He finally grows a pair and now _you're _the one hiding _him._"

"He had his reasons for boxing me out, Ope. _He came clean_."

_I don't know how clean he's going to _stay_ when I bury his ass in the middle of the football field the next time I see him between Maize O'Keefe's legs._

Opie's eyebrows rose. "So all is forgiven now? Things are good with you and the Jock strap?"

_Ughhh. _"What was that you were saying before about how you were staying out of _my_ business?"

Opie shook his head, grinning like a jack-o-lantern. "_Jesus_. I really need to figure out how I'm doing it. I can get you _and _Jax to tell me what I want to know without meaning to…but Donna's like trying to drive through a brick wall, and that was _before _you decided to tell her about my history with Sarah."

Tara smirked. "Doesn't feel good having people meddle in your personal life _does it_?"

"I _knew _it! Thanks to you she's been tweaking out on me _all day._ It's like I'm on a fuckin episode of _Jeopardy! _All the questions are about Sarah and every time I give an answer it's _wrong_ one_. And that shit on the steps this morning?_ Remind me to thank the troublemaker you call your best friend!"

"Since when do you refer to yourself in the third person? _Weirdo. _At least you're finally admitting you're a trouble maker. Personal growth is a beautiful thing. And FYI, I _rarely _talk about you. You're not that interesting."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I know what you _meant_, moron….Sarah was like the sister I never had…but that was _before _she left. Her coming back doesn't mean everything is automatically back to the way it was it before. I don't even know how to navigate around all her drama. It's stopped being entertaining a long time ago. And truth be told, I don't even know if I want to be bothered to _try._"

"You sure that doesn't have anything to do with J—"

Tara pointed a finger in Opie's face. "—don't even say it, jackass…it has nothing to do with _him_—"

"—_small doses, _remember?"

"_Ughhhh. _I'm trying to tell you something. Shut up and _let_ me."

Opie made a show of cupping his hands behind his ears. "I'm _listening_."

Tara scowled, turning around to storm off. "_Forget it_. I'm going home."

Opie grabbed her shoulder, effortlessly spinning her around. "_Jax_ lets you get away with that shit. Not _me…_start _talking_, Knowles."

"_You're_ my best friend," Tara confessed. Opie blinked. "Sarah stopped being my best friend a long time ago…it's _you _now. You got my back and I got yours."

Then, to eliminate the sudden mushiness clogging the air in the room, Tara yanked the beanie off of his head. "Now all I have to do is convince you to let me braid ribbons in your hair."

Opie snatched his hat back. "Not even in your dreams."

"In my dreams you let me braid your beard, too." Tara yanked his goatee, hopping back when he reached for her.

"Keep it up, Tara," Opie goaded. "We might be best friends now. But don't forget_ I_ have a _backup_. Keep fuckin with me and this friendship is going to be real _temporary."_

Tara rolled her eyes, flipping her middle finger up at him as she walked backwards towards the window. "In that case…as you're _temporary _best friend here's a little advice…Tell your _backup _to keep Sarah away from him. And no I'm not saying that for _me. _I'm saying it because we all know everywhere Jax is there _you _are. If you want Donna to stop flipping out you'll listen to me."

"Oh yeah?" Opie called after her, just as she threw one leg out of the window. "Well as _your _temporary best friend I'm telling _you_, you need to tell Jax about David. And not because I think it's the _only _thing that'll get you both to take your heads out of your asses. It's because _we all know _sooner or later I won't be the only one Sarah's causing trouble for."

_Preach._

_And let the Church say, Amen._

"Whatever," Tara shot back. She jumped down out of the window, pulling it shut behind her.

_Way to ruin our bonding moment, HARRY._

* * *

**_NEXT UP:_**

**_Riddle me this folks: _**_What do you get when you mix_

**- an **ANGRY** Donna (read: nitpicking Donna)**

- **a brunette who thinks her boyfriend might be cheating.**

**- a flirtacious blonde prince who likes to show his "_friends" _the _proper way _to use chopsticks**

**- a half-empty bottle of Piney's tequila**

**- && music _certain_ people can't help but dance to..._together._**

**?**

_**STAY TUNED.**_


	17. Chapter 17

**H**E**Y, Xbeautiful_sad__ness_X! I **hope** the ransom was **worth it. **You guys can thank her for getting **this _bulk-upload _**sooner than I'd originally planned (AKA when i came** _back _**from vacation instead of **before**)**...

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**So, writing all that seriousness the last couple chapters was a bit of a drag, which shouldn't surprise you guys given the subject matter.**

**I started out wanting to go **lighter** for these next ones, especially since the events of Sarah Hale's Saturday night party are going to darken things up for a bit.**

**THEN I decided the story could use a little **fun,** a little **humor**…a little** cutesyness **...and maybe even a little **_steam._

**Just a _li_**_tt**le… **_**I'll leave you guys to decide **which** scenes are **which** :) **

FOLLOW**| && |**Review**|… the sooner you do, the more incentive I'll have to write.**

**My family vacation's coming up fast, and I'm not taking my laptop with me, folks.**

**And as** ALWAYS **I hope** you guys enjoy these. Trust me, it's not easy writing any of them** OR** putting it out for public consumption.**

** My **inner critic** is a real bee-yatch.**

**- **V**eritable **O**ld **L**ady **C**row**

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Tara had no problem understanding any of it.

The theories, the formulas, the leg work were all fairly simple to her. It was like tying her shoes or reading Dr. Seuss.

What she _didn't_ understand was why some genius just up and decided to add the fuckin alphabet to math.

Calculus. _Really?_

Easy had nothing to do with how tedious and time consuming it was. That's why she was relieved when she was finally able to close her textbook, and say _Finito! _to her College-level Math homework. She didn't even bother changing into a pair of pajamas. She shoved all her books off her bed, kicked off her sneakers, slid her shorts down over her ankles & tossed her T-shirt over the head of her desk chair.

Tara jumped right into bed.

_Her own _bed—for the first time in weeks.

It didn't matter how welcoming and considerate Opie was. _Nothing_ compared to the comfort of your own space. That was why she was looking forward to the peaceful six to eight hours of sleep she had ahead of her.

And that was why she _should _have left the house phone on the receiver in the kitchen instead of sitting it next to her bed.

It was 3:45 A.M when the house phone rang. Reluctantly, Tara rolled over clicking the receiver on. She'd barely mumbled a semi-coherent, "Hello?" before some bartender was telling her it was last call and she needed to come pick up her father.

The same father that was supposed to be _working _the night shift, instead of drinking through it.

Being forced out of bed to fetch her father from whatever bar he chose for the night was already irritating enough. Getting dressed and walking into the living room only to remember the Cutlass was _with_ said father instead of in the driveway was just the icing on the cake.

As Tara made her way through the middle of hers and the Winston's house's to climb in Opie's window, Tara wondered if this would be the kind of thing that made Opie want their friendship to _really _be temporary.

Opie was buried under his comforter, the Afghan he usually slept on the floor with tangled below him at the foot of the bed. The only part of him she could make out was the tiny part of his shoulder that wasn't covered with his long, ruddy brown hair.

"Opie," Tara called loudly, as she moved towards him to shake him awake.

If she'd known he wasn't alone she might have whispered instead—_might _being the operative word.

Donna sat up first.

She cracked one eye open, rubbing the other one, completely oblivious to the wide-eyed expression on Tara's face—or the fact that she wasn't wearing a shirt…or a bra.

"I thought Opie said your dad wasn't home," Donna said groggily. "I wasn't expecting you to come over here…"

Tara cleared her throat. "Umm…I can see that…I can also see that you're either really cold or _really _happy to see me…"

Donna followed Tara's eyes. When she looked back up the emotion in Donna's eyes didn't match the amusement in Tara's.

Donna gasped, bunching the covers up over her chest.

Then she clunked Opie hard on the top of his head.

_Well that's one way to wake someone up._

"_OW! _What the hell did I do _now_?_"_

"You were moaning Sarah's name in your sleep," Tara teased.

Opie jerked around to face her. Sitting up in the bed, the sheets fell down dangerously low. Tara quickly looked anywhere but in his direction.

_Yuck._

Clearly Donna wasn't the only one feeling a little _clothing optional _in the wee hours of morning.

"That _shit _ain't funny," Donna snapped, immediately turning to glare at her boyfriend.

Sighing, Opie looked over at the clock on his side of the bed. "Jesus Christ. It's not even five o'clock yet and you're already giving me a fuckin headache."

"_Me?_" Donna questioned. "Or Tara?"

"You better be very careful how you answer that one," Tara suggested, giggling.

"What is she doing here, Opie?" Donna demanded. "You said her father was working nights now and she didn't have to come over here the rest of this week."

Tara could tell Donna was annoyed by her—perhaps, poorly timed—Sarah joke.

Part of Tara—okay _most _of her—didn't feel bad at all. As far she was concerned it was payback for all the countless times Donna a_nd _her annoying boyfriend gave her a hard time about Jax or David.

Mostly Jax.

As Tara watched Donna's cheeks redden she realized the girl also looked a little embarrassed about being caught in Opie's bed.

Tara didn't really understand that part of it. Why would she be embarrassed by _this? _

The scene in front of her at the moment was pretty tame considering she'd accidentally walked in on Donna giving Opie head a couple months ago. Her eyes were still recuperating from the trauma. She should be more embarrassed about _that _if anything.

Unless Opie never told her about it.

"I didn't _know _she was coming," Opie huffed, shooting a confused look in Tara's direction. "Did something happen with Arthur?"

When Tara shook her head No, Opie shot her glare that matched his girlfriends.

"_What are you doing here then?_ If you wanted a ride to school, you know what time I leave. Use the doorbell next time, d_amn it._"

Donna looked like she wanted to choke him.

Nope.

There was no way he told her about it.

_You tell her everything but the shit that concerns her _personally._ Go figure._

"I need you to give me a ride to go pick up my father. He took the Cutlass with him and if I don't hurry up they'll call Unser to pick him up and then he'll be calling the school office _again _to tell me to come bail him out of the drunk tank this afternoon…because apparently my classes aren't important at all..._or_ my reputation."

Donna snatched the covers off of the bed completely to cover herself in them as she stood up. Opie—thankfully—was quick enough with throwing a pillow over himself until she could bend over to toss him the Afghan that had slid to the floor.

"You want to know something, Tara?" she sneered. "You've been milking that whole _I have a drunk for a daddy _thing a little too much these days…Why don't you ask _your _boyfriend to do you favors at four o'clock in the morning? Or better yet why don't you ask you best friend _Sarah_? Her new car should be ready by now, unless she found _another_ reason for it to end up back at Teller-Morrow…where _Opie _works."

"_Donna!_"

"It's fine, Ope," Tara cut in. "I'm not much of a morning person either…I'll give Tinkerbelle a chance to get a cup of coffee in her before I activate _my _bitch mode."

"_Whatever_." Donna stalked out, the hallway bathroom door slamming behind her.

"I thought sex was supposed to relax you, not turn you into a harpy," Tara said looking at the spot in the hall where Donna disappeared to.

_That's what I _heard _anyway, _Tara thought bitterly.

"Seriously, Tara," Opie said, rubbing his eyes, "What the hell did you say to her? I thought the whole jealousy thing was cute at first…watching her lay Emily out was kind of a turn on—

"—_Eww_…I don't need to know what turns you on—"

"—my _point _is," Opie said louder. "_This_ shit ain't funny. And if she keeps it up Sarah's going to think I'm still into her, too."

_Since we're on the subject._

Tara shot back quick as a whip,"_Are_ you?"

Tara burst out laughing when Opie shot her a murderous glare—one that made Wendy—the _real _source of his problem—come to mind as she remembered the elaborate story the big-mouth blonde had told in English.

"What the fuck is so funny?"

"HULK ANG-GREE!" Tara roared in the deepest voice she could manage.

"_Get out_," Opie said, pointing towards his bedroom door. "I'll be ready in ten minutes…._you fuckin pain in the ass."_

Tara was half way out the door when she stopped, turning around. "Is Jax riding with you guys to school today?"

_I wonder how that sexy mouth of his is doing._

_Wait, no I _don't.

_Okay, I _am_ but not because it's a _sexy _mouth...not because I've been thinking about all the things I'd like him to_ do _with it._

_It's just because I elbowed him in the face and I feel bad t_hat's all.

_Yep._

_That. Is. All._

"Why?" Donna said from the hallway.

Tara jumped at her sudden reappearance.

"You want him to help you find out if sex will turn _you _into a harpy? Maybe if one of your _many_ boys _finally_ sleeps with you, you can guilt _them_ into doing you favors."

"I tell you what, Ope," Tara half-joked, meeting Donna's icy gaze. "Why don't you tack on an extra ten minutes to that _getting ready_ time? See if you can get Tinkerbelle to unwind a bit…before she ends up getting her wings _clipped_."

Tara narrowly missed the back of her ankle getting caught in Opie's bedroom door as Donna moved to slam it behind her.

_Lollipop Guild, my ass._

The wizard of Oz was definitely false advertising—munchkins really weren't nice at all.

Tara briefly considered yanking the door back open, playing tug-o-war with it until she abruptly let it go and Donna went flying.

Tara was turning to walk away instead when she paused, tuning into Opie's measured voice through the door.

Seconds later Tara was jonesin for a bucket of popcorn and a coke to go with her early morning entertainment.

Love was such a funny thing.

_"I don't even know why _I'm_ in the dog house…but Tara didn't do anything to you. Why you being such a bitch?"_

_"Oh, so I'm a bitch now, huh?"_

_"I didn't say that—"_

_"Yes you did!"_

_"I said you're _acting _like one. There's a difference."_

_"Well if I'm being such a bitch maybe I shouldn't sleep over anymore!"_

_"I never a_sked _you to sleep over in the first place! I stopped asking you to spend the night here months ago! You came knocking on _my _window at two o'clock in the morning!"_

_"You didn't seem to mind when I was on top of you."_

_"The_ FUCK _happened to your curfew, huh Donna? Huh? _HUH?_ How many times I beg you to come over and you can't sneak out because your parents will _grooound you?"

"_You'd think you'd_ appreciate _the fact__ that I came over instead of complaining about it!"_

_"I'm not complaining about the sex—_

_"Well maybe _I _should be…Tara's got a point…you've been a little off your game lately…"_

Tara snickered behind her hand.

_"You want to try saying that _again _with a straight face?"_

The sound of a firecracker going off sounded through the bedroom door.

Man, did Donna love hitting people.

_"How's _your _face feeling, _Har-Ree_?"_

_"Stop calling me that—"_

_"—Why? Only Sarah can call you that? Is _that _it?"_

Tara was starting to feel bad for her earlier wisecrack about Sarah.

Poor Opie.

Shit was still funny though.

_"You want to know why _I'm _pissed? I have _no fuckin idea_ what _your_ problem is but here's a cheat sheet on how _I'm _feeling right about now. I feel like my girlfriend was switched with a _fuckin Changeling _or some shit! What is _wrong_ with you?"_

_"You don't want me coming over here? _FINE._ This will be the last time I show up unannounced…or at all."_

Tara slid away from the door as soon as she saw the knob turning.

_"_Wait, baby_….that's not what I meant."_

Donna, _one._ Opie, _zero._

If Tara was wearing a hat she would have taken it off to her.

_Nicely played, Tinkerbelle._

_Hit him where it hurts…Attack the head he thinks with the most._

Tara moved closer to the door again, as they lowered their voices.

_"I'm not pissed because you came over," _Opie said. _"I'm mad about _why _you came over."_

_"I snuck out because I missed you."_

_"I missed you, too, baby...but I'm not stupid, Donna. That's not why you did it. You did it because you don't trust me. And I've never given you a reason not to—"_

_"—you lied about her….you made it seem like it was no big deal…she wasn't just the first girl you slept with…she's the one that broke your heart."_

_"That was years ago…I got over it."_

_"Maybe you only _think _you did…she wants you…she wants you back, I know it…I could see how she looks at you."_

_"Donna—"_

_"—and I'm not saying I don't trust you…it's _her _I don't trust…and she's not like _Tara_…girls like Sarah __actually _know_ what they want..."_

_WHAT THE HELL IS_ THAT _SUPPOSED TO MEAN?, _Tara screamed...in her mind.

"..._Sarah _goes after_ what she wants__ no matter who she has to fuck over to get it…_look_ at me, Opie. I'm too tiny to hold my own in jail. You really want me to end up being someone's prison bitch because I lost my temper and snapped her damn neck?"_

Tara covered her mouth so they wouldn't hear as she laughed along with Opie.

Opie groaned. _"What do you want me to do, babe? If I had it my way she wouldn't be around at all but I can't control where she goes."_

_"You could talk to your best friend."_

Score one for Tara Knowles.

_Who said it would be a _good_ idea to tell Jax to ditch the honey-blonde hurricane?_

_"_Which _one?"_

Donna chuckled this time. _"_Both_ of them…but _especially_ Jax... Knowing what I know about her she'll probably use _him_ to get to you…I doubt Tara would be a part of her scheming though…at least I _hope_ not."_

_"Tara likes _you. _And she's on _our _side…trust me, baby... If Tara didn't like you, I'd be holding an ice-pack over your eye right now after all the shit you just said to her…"_

_Damn straight, _Tara thought. But then she heard Opie snickering.

_"What's so funny?"_

_"She's probably be more pissed off about the comment on her sex life…well her _lack _of one."_

Donna giggled, and Tara wanted to snap _their _necks.

" _…I'll apologize to her later."_

_"Nah, you're straight…she teased you about Sarah…let's just call it a draw."_

_"Good point...I _still _don't think that shit is funny."_

_"Are you gonna tell me who told you about me and Sarah in the first place? Tara would have copped to it by now."_

_"I overheard a few rumors…and I just used my imagination after all the hints that bitch was dropping on the steps…."_

_LIAR, _Tara thought.

Maybe Wendy's charm was warming Donna up to her after all. Tara wouldn't have hesitated to throw _that_ bitch under the bus. Jax would flip the fuck out on her for messing with his best friend, too.

Tara would have loved to see how eager she'd be to _push buttons _then.

_"…I trust you…I _really _do…it's just…I love you, Ope…and just the thought of you and her together… it makes me wanna _set her hair on fire!"

Tara's lips were going to look a lot like Jax's if she kept smacking her hand against them to stifle her laughter.

_"Great…I fell in love with a psychopath."_

_"That's the _second t_ime you called me out of my name—"_

_"—_fifth_…and the one's I said _out loud_ were a lot nicer just so you know."_

_"I love you, Opie."_

_"I love you, too, baby."_

Silence.

The bedroom fell silent, and Tara wondered if they'd finally realized she was listening in and moved away from the door.

_Oh well._

Tara pressed her ear to the door.

And she was rewarded with yet another moment of T.M.I.

Too Much_—fuckin__—_Information.

_"Isn't Tara waiting for you?"_

_"Let her wait…I still have fifteen_ _minutes."_

_"…but….but—OH!—but what if she hears us?"_

Opie chuckled. _"You mean what if she hears _you…_"_

_"Shut up!"_

_"Oh yeah? You want me to shut my mouth? You _sure? _That won't do _you_ much good right now…"_

Donna moaned, and Tara jumped back from the door.

That didn't help at all.

Whatever Opie was doing to her made Donna turn up the volume. Clearly she'd forgotten all about her worry of Tara overhearing them.

Scurrying away from the bedroom door as if it might come alive and bite her in the ass, Tara headed down the hall to the living room to wait on the couch.

Tara cringed when Donna's voice rose again minutes later—shouting praises to the man upstairs who would definitely _not _approve of what was making her chant his name. When her voice began singing over the rhythmic thump of Opie's headboard, Tara shot up from the couch, slamming the front door behind her before the sound of box springs squeaking gave her nightmares.


	18. Chapter 18

**Another School day morning (**after**) in the life of Prince Charming….**

**P.**S**: Answer to the riddle? **So simple, it's downright _**boring... **_WELL** maybe not **boring**...maybe just—**_oh you know what?_ **Just indulge in the next **SEVEN** chapters i just posted and form your own opinion.****  
**

**I look forward to **reading** said Opinions in the |REVIEW| section.**

**- **V**eritable **O**ld Lady **C**row**

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5:05 A.M.

It was the sound of his mother's voice, yelling "_Jackson! It's five o'clock! WAKE UP_!" that immediately reminded Jax why he didn't want to come home in the first place. Something was going down at Club Reaper so unfortunately for him _SAMCRO_ business had him locked out, banned from using any of the dorms.

And he couldn't sleep over at the Winston's because Opie had girlfriend problems.

Jax loved his best friend. Opie Winston was his brother, the guy he could always count on to have his back. And Jax had his.

But chick problems were something that Jackson Teller steered clear of by any means necessary. He didn't want to deal with it. Talking about girls?

That subject was off limits—especially for _them_ lately.

Jax couldn't talk to Opie about Donna because talking about Donna always lead to him teasing Opie about what a pussy she was turning him into. And that _always_ lead directly into to Opie teasing Jax about Tara.

And who wants to deal with that shit all the time?

_"Good morning, Handsome," _Sarah whispered, kissing the back of his neck.

Sarah was in a category all to herself—she was the subject they _never _brought up.

"Doesn't your father believe in giving his _little princess_ a curfew?" Jax asked as he leaned over to look at the digital alarm clock on his night stand.

_Maybe if he kept you on a shorter leash I'd only have _one _annoying voice to wake up to this morning._

Behind him Sarah giggled. "I forgot how cranky you are in the morning," she said, sitting up to curl an arm around his waist.

Jax sat up, throwing the covers off. He almost cringed when his bare feet touched the ice-cold surface of his bedroom floor.

Late nights and early mornings weren't supposed to effect _teenagers_. Yet Jax was exhausted—as if _he'd _been the one going three rounds in a ring with Tara instead of Lowell Jr.

At the thought of Tara, Jax's hand involuntarily flew up to touch his lip, fingers brushing against the slowly fading bruise at the corner of his mouth from the day before.

Then his mind flashed to the ride in Piney's truck to Opie's house.

The way Tara leaned into him, one hand resting innocently on his thigh as he slid an arm behind her, pulling her in closer. When he'd first placed a hand on her stomach it had started out _just _as innocent. But then her belly went rigid under his fingers. A tiny gasp escaped past her lips—a sharp intake of breath Tara probably didn't think he could hear over the hum of the radio. Running his hand up and down, his pinky had accidentally brushed the edge of her shirt up. It was only for a second, and it barely qualified as skin to skin contact. And yet her lack of reaction—no her _trying _and failing _not _to react emboldened him.

He'd slipped his hand all the way under her shirt—and his own torture was instant. Jax had realized too late that her allowing him to splay his hands across her bare stomach was a lot like ordering a sundae and only getting to eat the cherry.

He wanted more—his _hands_ wanted more. And when she lifted her chin, head leaning back to glance up at him, he averted her gaze, staring straight ahead. On the outside his smile was one of amusement—arrogant as always. But inside he knew he was in big trouble when the wanthe'd merely glimpsed in her eyes before turning his head had his own stomach in knots.

Opie had no fuckin idea but _Jax _was the one he needed to worry about. _He _was the one ready to grab ahold of the steering wheel and force the truck to a stop just so he could chuck his ass out of it and drive off somewhere with the brunette he couldn't seem to get five minutes alone with _without _somebody interrupting them.

A big part of him was grateful that his best friend was there for Tara when he she wouldn't let him be. But that did nothing to curb his annoyance. And back in the truck, Jax just couldn't shake the feeling that Opie's presence had robbed him of an opportunity to get an even better _settlement _from one defendant, Tara Knowles—a settlement that involved a lot more fun for his lips than just kissing hers.

Jax jumped as Sarah hands slid down from his waist, into his boxers to grip his throbbing erection.

_"_See now _this_," Sarah said in his ear as she stroked him, "is what makes waking up next to a guy in the _morning_ worth all the trouble I'll be in for sneaking out."

Jax rolled his eyes even though she couldn't see him.

He could have easily called _bullshit _on her getting in trouble. Her parents let her run wild all the time just like his. They only got serious when they needed someone else to punish for _her _actions.

Tara was proof of that.

And Tara was another thing he _could have _corrected her about. Because the painful hard-on in between his legs _this _morning didn't have shit to do with a natural reaction to REM-sleep.

He probably _should have_ spoken up. He'd already pissed Sarah off the other night when he'd slipped up and called her Tara's name (something he would _deny til he died_ ifSarah's ego ever shrunk enough for her to tell anyone.)

This might have been the last straw, the final thing that snapped Sarah out of this bat-shit crazy idea that she could somehow _tame _him or control him with her extra set of lips.

His name was Jackson Nathaniel Teller—_not_ Harry Winston.

He should have told her to give it up—literally _and _figuratively.

But he was still a _guy. _

So instead of opening his mouth to speak his mind (a _chick_ move if there ever was one), he did what any other _guy_ would do. He sat there in silence as she kissed his neck, working him over with her hand.

But then she released him, climbing around into his lap. Grinding against him, it wasn't hard to tell that the only thing she had on was the T-shirt she was wearing—_his _T-shirt.

A _SAMCRO _T-shirt he hadn't even worn yet.

Looking down at her chest, he asked, "_Where _did you get that?", even though he already knew the answer.

Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "You're infamous for being good at _multitasking. _I should know…but are you seriously focusing on what I _am _wearing?" Sarah lifted up, sliding his boxers down past his knees. "I'd think you'd be more focused on what I'm _not _wearing," she teased, as she resumed rocking against him.

Well he was _now._

Being annoyed would have to wait until after.

Gripping her hip, Jax balanced her on his lap as he leaned over, pulling the top drawer of his nightstand open. Fingers fumbling he found the box he was looking for. But when he looked inside it was empty.

_Shit. _

"I'm _out_," Jax said, tilting the top of the opened condom box towards Sarah. He could hardly believe his own words.

Jax had two options—either he needed to cut down on the number of girls he was sleeping with _or _he needed to remember buy condoms. Hell, Wendy had bought the box in his hands.

Sadly for him—or better yet his _penis_—neither option _one_ or _two_ would be any help to him at the moment.

"Are you fuckin kidding me?" Sarah sighed in frustration.

_No, I'm not _kidding you_, Darlin. _

_ And it looks like I won't be _fuckin you_ either._

"I _really _wish I wasn't," Jax answered smiling ruefully at her. His hands gripped her waist, as he moved to stand up, but then she pushed against his chest.

"It's okay," Sarah said, reaching down between them. "I'm on the pill."

_I bet that's what that Carlie chick told Jacob Hale Jr. _

_I'm _horny_ not stupid._

Jax grabbed her by her wrist, chuckling when she glared. "Sorry, Darlin'…I gotta get ready anyway…besides Gemma _loves _barging in here unannounced. You should have been gone already...and I wanna hop in the shower real quick."

_Preferably a _cold _one. And no it's _not_ to wake me up._

Sarah stood up, pulling his T-shirt over her head. "I could join you."

Jax had to bite his tongue to keep from commenting when his crisp white _Reaper_ Tee landed on the floor. Instead he racked his brain for his usual early morning after speech.

"Listen," Jax said, pointing down at the floor. It was a struggle to ignore the _brand new _T-shirt lying on said floor—a shirt that was pretty much a piss-poor substitute for the leather kutte he _couldn't wait_ to have on his back instead. "I have breakfast with—"

"—_Gemma?_" Sarah interrupted.

Jax nodded."Yeah _and_ my old Man so—"

"—JT left hours ago. I heard him ride off when I got up to pee earlier."

_Of course you did. _

_Apparently you also found the time to go through my fuckin closet._

"Right," Jax said, pointing towards the window. "well you have a scheduled trip through that window, unless you—"

"—unless I want to stay for breakfast?"

Jax gaped at her like, _you're fuckin with me, right?_

Sarah just laughed.

Always laughing when someone's being serious.

"That's probably not a good idea. You're father doesn't want—"

"—I think you mean _you _don't want," Sarah interrupted. Jax waited for the rattlesnake to rear its head but the honey blonde simply shrugged her shoulders. "_Whatever _it's fine. Don't let me hold you up. I should probably show my face at home anyway, before _Gloria _starts putting ideas in daddy's head again about my lack of_ boundaries._"

_Your mother might be on to something._

"Cool...Later, Darlin." Jax headed towards his bedroom door, snatching his towel off the dresser on his way there.

"Is Opie coming by to pick you up?" Sarah asked behind him.

_Jesus Christ. _

"I usually get a ride to his place first," Jax said, opening his door to step out into the hallway.

"Your mother?"

_No, Miss _Daisy_ is driving me. _

_Fuck you think?_

"Bye, Sarah." Jax pulled the door close without looking back at her.

_This_ was why Wendy was the only girl Jax kept around on a regular basis.

She knew when to leave and he didn't even have to _ask._

* * *

Jax had it in his mind to take his shower in the morning instead of the night before more often. The hot water relaxed him—as much as it _could _anyway all things considered. He bounded down the steps leading into the living room two at a time, eager to get this awkward _family breakfast _shit over with.

When he turned the corner he was sure he'd missed the news report on Hell freezing over. What he saw froze _him_—it ignited a war of his emotions. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh at the irony, roll his eyes at the hypocrisy, or yell _"What the fuck?!"_ at his mother, the Queen of keeping people on their toes.

Gemma had one trick and it never got old—she was only predictable in _one _way. You could count on her to do the opposite of what you _expected _or _wanted—_usually a combination of the two.

Like today.

Gemma turned her head, smiling over at her son from the dining room table where she sat. Sitting directly across from her, with a look of triumph that made him want throw a toddler-sized tantrum….was Sarah Hale.

"Look who _finally _decided to show his face," Gemma said. "Mornin' baby, how'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good, I'm _guessing_," Sarah commented, winking at him when Gemma wasn't looking. "He definitely _looks_ well rested."

There was a Hale in his dining room…sitting with his _mother. _

Sarah Hale—a human of the female variety was in his _mother's_ dining room at six o'clock in the morning….and Gemma was smiling instead of cursing both teenagers out for _playing house _under _her _roof.

This was the girl she called "Princess Fuck-up" and his mother was serving her breakfast.

_What the fuck?_

"What are you doing here, Sarah?" Instinct told him to omit the word _still_ from the question.

Gemma's eyes widened as she looked over at Sarah. "I thought you said you guys were planning to ride to school together…give me a day off from rushing to get him over to Ope's. Especially since I have an appointment... Luann said that...but I don't know..."

Gemma was rambling on and neither teenager was paying any mind.

_Just what he thought. You scheming little—_

"This oatmeal is _delicious _Mrs. Teller," Sarah said, as Gemma got up to put some in a bowl for her son. As soon as she turned her back, Sarah locked shrewd grey eyes with Jax's as she flicked her tongue around the edges of the spoon, before sucking it into her mouth. "Seriously," Sarah added, pulling the spoon from her mouth with a light _pop, _"I don't know how Mr. Teller isn't like three hundred pounds from your cooking…it must be his metabolism…or a whole lot of _cardio._"

Gemma was dipping the ladle into the pot on the stove when Jax rushed into the kitchen, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks, ma…but I'm _really _not hungry right now. I overate last night."

Jax heard what sounded a lot like a _scoff _behind him. "Of course I get why Jax is so skinny…it's hard to get him to _eat_ anything."

Gemma turned to nod at her in agreement. "He's a picky eater. My _Tommy_ was, too."

Jax tried and failed to swallow the smile turning his lips up at the corners when he caught the annoyed expression that was on Sarah's face before his mother turned to face her.

Clearly _someone _was still annoyed because he wouldn't go down on her.

No girl could ever _really _call Jackson Teller selfish. If he didn't make up for what he _didn't _do by exceeding expectations in other areas why were they always coming back for more?

Sarah really had her signals crossed—especially when she thought it was a good idea to tell her that _"Opie did it"_, as if that was supposed to change his mind.

Sarah wanted Jax to please her? She might want to start with _NOT _mentioning some other dude—_especially_ his best friend…you know, the one she chewed up and spit back out. For all he knew, Opie going nose deep is why he ended up getting played.

Jax threw an arm over his mother, kissing her on her cheek. Softening her up was always the path to lease resistance—and it lessened the need of Tylenol for the headache she'd give him if he _didn't. _"I'm gonna go," Jax said.

Sarah slid her chair back. Standing, she picked the bowl in front of her up, placing it in Gemma's waiting hand. "Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Teller."

"It's Gemma, sweetheart…or _Gem."_

_Oh is it now?_

"Thanks, _Gem_," Sarah said. Beaming at her like a teacher's pet presenting Gemma with an apple, Sarah nudged Jax's shoulder. "Let's go, Jax…we need to make a stop on the way."

* * *

"Where we headed?" Jax asked as Sarah pulled out of the spot in front of his neighbor's house four doors down.

_Opie's place I bet you._

Jax had a nagging suspicion that she was up to her old tricks again. Maybe _he_ wasn't the target after all.

But this chick was seriously delusional if she thought she could use _him _to get to Opie without running into Donna's waiting _fist._

Gemma had the right idea about Donna Lewis. She'd make a _perfect _Old Lady with _her_ attitude.

"Where do you think, Genius?" Sarah slapped a button below the dashboard, pulling a pair of aviator sunglasses from the glove compartment. Sliding them on her face, she turned to face him when they stopped at the first light. "We're going to pick up our best friend_. _You, me, and _Tara_…just like old times."

_I can't FUCKIN WAIT until I get my Harley._

So much for his theory about _Opie_ being the target.

Jax didn't know what the hell Tara did to end up her _pseudo-_best friend's crosshairs, but Sarah was clearly gunning for _her. _And the honey blonde had it in her head that Jackson Teller was the way to do it.

_What the hell did Tara do to you?_

Or it could be _ALL _about Jax—about marking her territory, making a statement for a girl who wasn't even the least bit interested in him...except for when she _was. _

_Maybe I should save us all the stress and tell you about the _"just friends" _speech she gave me the other night._

_Never mind the fact that Opie interrupting—like ALWAYS—was probably—HOPEFULLY—the only reason I didn't make her eat her words...right before I ate _her.

_God_damn_ it!_

It was like a tennis match going on his brain. And the neon ball was bouncing back and forth across the net too fast for him to get a hold on his thoughts.

Was Sarah using him to get back at Tara? Or did Sarah see her as a threat to her having him all to herself?

Jax didn't know which one was the case.

The only _certain _thing was that either scenario involved Tara having feelings for him—feelings that "just friends" didn't have.

And fuck him, but he _loved _the idea of that.


	19. Chapter 19

**TEENAGERS... ****#thatisAll**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

"Well would you look who it is? It's my daughter the future Mrs. _Hale_," Arthur Knowles slurred. "Don't you have some community fundraiser to plan with Lover-boy and his mom? You're here way too early."

Tara quickly snatched the nearly empty liquor bottle he'd been reaching for on the bar countertop.

"It seems no matter what I'm never early enough," Tara said, swallowing the urge to shove him on his tired ass and go back home to maker herself a decent breakfast. "Let's go _Arthur_," Tara urged, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the stink of Bourbon leaking through his pores.

Tara turned around when she heard Opie snickering behind her.

Rolling her eyes at him she said, "I'm glad _you_ can see the humor in this."

"I'm not laughing because your father's a shitfaced mess," Opie explained, chuckling. "I'm laughing because whenever he _is _around he's _always _drunk and yet even _he _knows you're dating David..."

_And Jax doesn't have a clue. _

_Yeah, yeah, yeah._

_ You need to tell him._

_ Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Whatever. Shut the hell up._

Ignoring him, Tara wrapped a slender arm around her father's shoulders, trying to hoist him up on his feet so they could begin their usual father-daughter drunk-step. But Arthur stubbornly kept his three-hundred plus frame rooted to the barstool where he'd clearly been sitting for a while.

After another failed attempt at lifting him up, Tara turned to the teenage boy standing next to her. "You want to help me out, Ope? Or are you waiting for me to get a hernia?"

Shaking his head, Opie brushed Tara's hands away. Effortlessly, it seemed, Opie hoisted her father off the barstool, holding him up by his shoulders until Arthur managed to achieve what little balance he could on wobbly legs. "It wouldn't kill you to say please and thank you every once in a while, Tara."

"I _do_!" Tara argued. When Opie turned towards her, eyebrows raised, Tara shrugged—a small smile playing at her lips. "Well I say _thank you._"

_Please is for beggars. I never beg anyone for anything._

* * *

Donna was already waiting on Opie's front steps. Opie hopped from the truck, heading towards the Cutlass parked directly behind him. While Opie pulled her father from the car, Tara walked ahead, house keys in hand as Opie half-dragged her father up the walk way.

They'd brought him home just in time.

Arthur Knowles was out cold by the time Opie reached his bedroom. Strong as he was there was only so much the teenager could do with dead weight. He tossed him back on the King sized mattress, telling Tara he'd, "wait in the hall," on his way out the door.

Tara resumed her usual hangover responsibilities—she put a glass of water on her father's nightstand, two aspirin next to it. She dragged the garbage can from the master bathroom to the side of the bed, and with Opie waiting in the hallway for her, she propped her father up as best she could against the assortment of throw pillows positioned on the bed in the same order she'd put them in when she made his bed up last time.

Clearly her father wasn't spending much time in here. That explained the poor shape the rug on the master bathroom floor was in.

Pulling the door closed behind her, Tara stepped out into the hallway to discover Opie was gone. It would have been a surprise that he didn't do what he said if Tara didn't remember that Donna was outside waiting on him.

Shrugging her shoulders, Tara headed towards her bedroom to get her jacket and her books for school. She was pulling her own door closed when she heard Donna yelling.

_Great. A sequel to this morning's drama. _

_Hopefully I can fast forward the love scenes this time. _

* * *

It was like Déjà vu.

Tara walked out onto her front steps and immediately her mind flashed back to yesterday on Charming High's front steps. Had they all been sitting down instead of standing at the end of her front lawn the scene playing out before her could have been an exact replica.

Well except for a few things—like Opie.

The doting boyfriend routine was winning him no points this morning.

"Babe, we gotta go. If we're late I won't have time to walk you to cl—"

_"Do I like I give a shit about that right now?"_ Donna seethed, glaring up at Opie. At the sound of Tara's front door closing, Opie's head snapped towards her. The look on his face said, _save me._

Tara's eyes veered over to Jax who was already looking at her, his lips pulling up into his signature cocky grin. "Hey track—"

"_Hey, Lady Tee!_" Sarah cut him off. She lifted the aviator sunglasses on her face up, sliding them back, resting them at the crown of her head. "_Jax and I_ were on our way to school when we decided to drop by and see if you need a ride."

"I thought you said she _knew _you were coming?" Donna accused.

Sarah didn't even look in Donna's direction. "Harry, do something with your girlfriend before I hurt her feelings."

Donna was the _only _one that was still the same as yesterday. Clearly Sarah was done with the "nice girl" act.

_Well that didn't take long. _

Opie was glaring at Sarah instead of looking at her like he couldn't believe she was there like he had yesterday. Unfortunately, openly showing his disdain for the honey blonde standing in front of them didn't earn him any points because Donna was too busy glaring a hole into Jax's face to notice.

"You're not even _in_ a relationship," Donna barked. She was glaring at the side of Sarah's face—while Sarah purposefully ignored both Donna's tantrum and her presence. "Jackson Teller doesn't _do _relationships, right? So why do you insist on bringing your latest _fuck_ with you everywhere you go?"

"_Excuse _me?"

Well _that _got Sarah's attention.

"_Enough_," Jax said, blowing out a breath.

Or at least Tara _thought _it was Jax. The tall, handsome blonde-haired teenager standing to Sarah's left _looked _like Jax but then where was the Lady Killer smile? Tara kept waiting for him to laugh under his breath. Jax _always_ found it hilarious when one of Opie's girls lost their shit and flipped out on him.

And this morning Opie had _two _of them. Double the entertainment.

Instead Jax's earlier smile was nowhere to be found—his mouth was in a tight line as he moved to snake his arm around Sarah's waist.

It wasn't meant to be intimate—Tara could tell he was just trying to hold her back, trying to stop the two girls from fighting. Opie was holding Donna the same way and Tara could _see _his attempt at tenderness.

Jax was just trying to defuse a situation. That's _all _he was doing.

But the sight of him holding Sarah back against his chest, hands holding her waist made Tara wish Donna had the strength to free herself from Opie's grip so she could kick Sarah's ass—maybe even _accidentally _hit Jax a few times.

"_Damn it_, Donna. Didn't we _just _go through this?" Opie complained. He was looking over at Tara again, the earlier request in his eyes even more urgent.

What the hell did he expect her to do? She didn't ask Sarah to come here. She damn sure didn't sign up for ten minutes in a car with Sarah _and _Jax.

But that was what Opie wanted—Tara knew it without him saying a word.

He wanted her to take one for the team.

_Not a chance in hell, _was Tara's initial thought. She'd never admit it—to _anyone_—but seeing Sarah and Jax play tonsil hockey on the steps irritated the hell out of her. She was not about to volunteer to ride in a car with them. What if they held hands again? Tara didn't want to see that shit.

Okay, yeah…she had a boyfriend. And David was really great when he wasn't helping slutty cheerleaders "stretch" but something about seeing her two _former _best friends together made her blood boil and her skin crawl.

Tara was not in the mood to deal with them—and that was why she wasn't going to.

But then she reminded herself that this was the same guy who got out of his bed at the butt crack of dawn to help her with her father.

_Fine. _

"It's not worth it," Tara said. The comment was for both girls—Donna more than Sarah. Placing a hand on Sarah's shoulder, Tara added, "I appreciate the ride but now we're gonna be late. So we should probably go now."

Sarah recovered first.

Donna had finally stopped struggling but she looked ten times angrier than she was before.

Sarah simply smiled. "You're right…_she's _not worth it."

_Not what I said, _Tara thought. But judging by the look on Donna's face she may as well have.

"Let's go, Opie," Donna said, turning to walk towards his truck. Tara watched as Opie opened the passenger side door for her, closing it behind her once she climbed inside. Before Opie's door shut all the way Tara heard Donna gripe, "_If this is your definition of _'on our side' _I'd rather Tara just switch teams._"

"So much for the lollipop guild," Sarah joked as the truck pulled off. Tara rolled her eyes even as she smiled. It was comments like _that _that reminded her why Sarah and her had gotten to be so close. Sometimes it was like they shared the same thought.

Tara reached for the handle to the front passenger door, but Sarah swatted her hand away. "Nope. Sorry, Tee. You gotta sit in the back. Jax already called shotgun," Sarah said, looking over at Jax.

Jax shook his head. "No I didn't."

Sarah shrugged, unapologetic—about twisting Jax's words? Or making up her own altogether? Tara didn't know which one was the case. But she did know that it was shit like _this_ that reminded Tara why they _weren't_ still as close as they were before.

She was always trying to manipulate someone into doing what she wanted.

"Whatever, Sarah. The back is fine." Tara moved to open the back door.

Jax brushed her hand aside this time, nodding towards the front. "Go ahead. You can sit in the front. I don't care."

"It's fine, Jax," Tara said, reaching for the handle again. Jax slapped her hand away again. When Tara looked up to glare at him, the playful version of the Lady Killer smile was beaming at her.

"I _said_ you could sit in the front," Jax argued. "You know _me, _babe_. _I'm no stranger to the backseat of a car." Jax winked at her and Tara shook her head, biting her lip to keep from giggling.

_Of course you're not…MAN-WHORE._

_You probably already christened this backseat with Sarah, _Tara thought.

And just like that her smile vanished.

Jax's smile fell as soon he saw hers disappear. The confusion was clear in his expression, but he'd be holding his breath a long time if he thought Tara was going to explain how she went from being amused to being annoyed.

And really, did that girl _ever _explain anything to him?

It was a read-off in the front of the Knowles residence. Jax and Tara trying to gauge each other's feelings based on their facial expressions.

And Sarah was happy to interrupt that the way she did everything else.

"Weren't you the one saying we're gonna be late?" Sarah walked around to the driver's side. "Front seat, back seat. Flip a coin or just pick. It doesn't really matter. Just _get in_."

Sarah stood, driver's door open, her eyebrow cocked as she waited for them to make a decision.

Tara was reaching for the back door handle again. This time instead of knocking her hand away, Jax placed his hand on top of hers. Tara hoped her face wasn't as red-hot as she felt.

"I have an idea," Jax said, his eyes bouncing between the two ladies on either side of the car. He gingerly pulled Tara's hand off the handle before pulling the back door open himself. "How about neither one of us gets shotgun? We can sit in the back together. That's fair, right?"

Jax didn't wait for a response. He climbed into the backseat, sliding over, behind the driver's seat. Dipping his head down to peer at the amused brunette still standing on the sidewalk, he made a show of patting the empty space next to him. "Come on, babe. Back seat's only _fun_ with more than _one_. Come keep me company," he said wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Tara laughed as she ducked inside to join him in the back. "Yeah, okay. You better keep your hands where I can see them, Teller."

"Whatever you say, babe." Jax shrugged his shoulders. But the sly smile on his face made it clear he had zero intention of making _that_ promise.

"What's with the _Babe_ thing?" Sarah said from the front of the car as she slammed her door shut. The honey blonde turned around even as she twisted the car keys in the ignition. "What is that your new nickname or something? That why you don't like _Lady Tee _anymore? You do realize Babe is like a _pig_?" Sarah cocked an eyebrow at Tara.

Tara giggled. "He's not _like _a pig. He _is _a pig. I can't believe you actually remember that book."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "How could I forget it? You and Gloria were always going on and on about how it was one of the best children's books…that is should be made into a movie _someday_…"

Tara shook her head. "You know normal kids call their parents _Mom _and _Dad."_

"You call your dad _Arthur_," Sarah challenged.

Tara shook her head again, a wry smile on her face. "Being someone's father _biologically _doesn't make you a _parent._"

"It damn sure doesn't," Jax said. Tara turned her head towards him, frowning at the bitterness in his voice.

_You and JT still haven't made up?_

Tara wished they were alone so she could ask him. She'd feel like shit if her outburst in detention had caused a rift between Jax and his father. Outlaw or not, John Teller was the father Tara would have liked to have—one who both loved _and _cared about his family…even enough to do horrible things if it meant protecting them.

Tara envied that. She didn't want to ruin it.

"_Whatever," _Sarah snapped. "I don't know how we went from talking about Jax calling you babe the pig to you lecturing me about my relationship with _my _mother—"

"—_there _you go," Jax teased. "She's your _mother_ not _Gloria…_nice job, Knowles. Maybe you can teach Mrs. Ferlito to call me Mr. Teller instead of _Meester Tay-lor."_

Tara giggled—although it was more at Sarah's scowl than Jax's wisecrack.

"You want to be called Babe the pig, be my guest," Sarah said, turning around to pull off from the curb. "I just don't think it's a good idea to draw any extra attention to your _thighs._"

_Fuck you_, Tara thought to herself. But she still couldn't resist looking down at her legs.

When was the last time she'd gotten on a scale anyway? Yesterday _was _her first day stepping foot inside a gym in years…

Tara turned towards Jax—she hated herself for it, but she wanted to see the look in his eyes, see if he agreed with Sarah's observation.

Only she couldn't meet Jax's eyes.

She couldn't meet them because he was too busy staring at the thighs in question. When Jax finally did look up, baby blue eyes locked with Olive green and Tara had her answer.

He didn't agree at all.

Jax leaned towards Tara—and her breath hitched, eyes widening until she realized he was only going to whisper in her ear. "Personally, I think the shorts you're wearing takes care of that…and in case you didn't know…when I call you _babe_ I'm not talking about a pig."

_DUH. _

Tara already knew that. And she knew that Sarah knew it, too.

But damn it, if hearing him say it didn't make send the butterflies in her stomach fluttering.

Every girl Jackson Teller addressed was always _Darlin'. _ Tara could hardly stand the nicknames her best friend gave her—and she had a nagging suspicion Sarah was responsible for _Nerdvana _in particular—but the pet name Jax used to charm girls out of their panties? Tara hated it with a passion. He only ever tried the "Darlin" thing with her once and after the rant she went off on he never did it again.

She wasn't exactly sure when he started calling her babe—or more importantly when she started letting him get away with it.

But at the moment, knowing it ticked Sarah off made it impossible for Tara to swallow the self-satisified smirk on her face when she saw Sarah's nostrils flare out a lot like Donna's had been doing before she stormed off to torture Opie in private.

For once, Sarah wasn't the one getting all the attention. Tara was the brain _and _the beauty these days.

And it felt pretty damn good.

* * *

Jax's elbow was propped up against the backseat, his head leaning against the palm of his hand. He sat sideways, his right leg tucked under him as he faced the animated brunette who was sitting in the back seat next to him, in pretty much the same position.

"I _swear_ it was like a firecracker went off!" Tara clapped her hands together hard as she told Jax about _Part one_ of the "Opie & Donna" morning soap opera.

Jax chuckled. "Well you know Opie loves the crazy ones."

"Or the _high maintenance_ ones," Tara added.

Chuckling, Jax and Tara looked up towards the front of the car. Their eyes met Sarah's glare in the centered rearview mirror at the same time. Instead of feeling awkward or even guilty they both just laughed harder.

"What girl was Donna accusing Opie of cheating with anyway?" Sarah asked as she turned the last corner, headed down the strip that lead to the Charming High School parking lot.

Tara and Jax rolled their eyes at the same time. They caught themselves doing it and started laughing all over again.

Everyone in the car knew exactly what girl Donna was upset about. Tara didn't even mention a name when she was relaying the story of what she'd overheard—to Jax, not the chick they'd forgotten was even in the car with them.

She knew it would be stating the obvious.

And there was no mention of cheating accusations. Sarah was once again adding her own twist to things.

"It doesn't matter," Tara said. "Donna's way off base. Opie _loves _her."

"Of course he does," Jax agreed. "Why the hell else would he put up with her crazy ass? Donna is the perfect example of why I _don't _do commitment. I will never be Opie."

_Why does it feel like you're sending a subliminal message to someone in the car? _

_And which one of us was the message for? Me or Sarah?_

_Sarah, definitely. _

_There's no way that warning was meant for me. I'm the one that gave _you _the just friend's speech. _

_I set the terms. _

"I think you're full of shit," Sarah commented from the front of the car. "All you need is the right girl to come around…show you what you could be missing out on and you'll be in the bowl covered in pussy whip just like _him_."

Jax scoffed at her. "Yeah, okay. You got a specific girl in mind?" When Sarah reached up, sliding her aviator sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to wink at him directly, Jax smirked at her, adding, "Trust me, Darlin'. Pigs will fly before that ever happens."

"Get ready to grow wings, Tara," Sarah joked. Tara flipped a middle finger at her through the rearview mirror.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but I actually agree with her, Jax," Tara commented. "It happened to Opie. It'll happen to you, too. And God help you when you do find the girl you can't get out of your head. You've got a lot of bad karma with the ladies, _Prince Charming_. Whoever she is, that chick's gonna rip your heart out of your chest and make you eat it!"

Jax's smile faltered. Tara couldn't decide _what _emotion had taken over his handsome features. She just knew it had riled the butterflies up again. "_Is that so__?_" Jax bit back, but the sarcasm in his voice didn't change his expression a tick.

Suddenly Tara felt hot all over. She needed to look away from him but when she turned her eyes forward they were met with mischievous grey ones.

"I'd actually pay good money to see the girl who could manage to make her way past the _Queen of Bikers_," Sarah commented. "Trying to get Gemma's approval is a little like waving a red flag in front of a bull...and we both know what a _momma's boy_ Jackson is."

"Oh, great. We're _here_," Jax cut in, looking out of his passenger side window into the crowded school parking lot.

Tara looked around. She hadn't even realized when they'd stopped. It was amazing how Jax always managed to make her oblivious to her surroundings whenever he'd give her one of his signature "_I bet you can't guess what I'm thinking_" stares.

"Speaking of Gemma," Sarah continued, obviously in no hurry to get to class like the rest of the students walking through the lot—or Jax, who was already reaching for the handle. Sarah turned all the way around, smiling over at Tara. "She made me oatmeal this morning—"

"She made _me _oatmeal. You were just—"

"It was _amazing_," Sarah pressed on, her voice rising over Jax's. "But what's even more amazing is that I managed to survive a whole meal with Gemma Teller without the fact that her and my father can't stand each other making things awkward. Check this out…she even told me to call her _Gem_. Can you believe that shit?"

_Gemma Teller favoring you over any other chick? Gemma Teller favoring you because she knows it gets under your fathers skin? Not shocking at all._

_The only surprising thing is that _Jax_ invited you to breakfast with him and his parents. Wasn't he just saying he wasn't Opie?_

"Actually I can," Tara admitted, turning to push her car door open. "She always liked _you."_

"True."

"Thanks for the ride, Sarah," Tara said. Without looking at him, she added a quick, "see you in class, Jax," before walking off.

She didn't bother waiting for Jax even though they had first period science _together_. She knew it was rude and perhaps even a little petty but Tara shrugged it off.

It's not like he ever bothered to show up to first period anyway.


	20. Chapter 20

Jax watched, hand resting against the top of Sarah's car as Tara hurried off in the opposite direction.

_I should sneak in your house and slip LEAD in all your shoes. See how fast you move then._

Sarah was by his side just as soon as she'd clicked the alarm on with the button latched to her key-chain. "I stand corrected. _Tara's _the cranky one in the morning."

Jax shrugged her arm off his shoulder. "She wasn't cranky until you brought up Gemma. Why you always gotta twist _that _knife?"

"Why am I the only one not allowed to call my parents by their first names?"

"I'm serious, Sarah." Jax sighed. "And the shit you pulled with my mother this morning? Don't do that again. I meant what I said, Sarah. I don't want that kind of relationship."

Sarah smiled, shaking her head at him. "You're reading into things. I didn't even mean anything by it. I decided to see if your mother wanted a break from driving you to school, that's all. _She _invited me inside for breakfast."

_SIX WEEKS. My birthday is in Six weeks. I get my Harley in six weeks. _

_Six weeks and I can ride the hell off and say fuck you to everyone._

"You were trying to manipulate me," Jax argued. "Didn't you learn the last time we were together? Things stopped being fun for me when you decided you wanted more…when _you _decided to try and control me."

"_Bullshit. _It stopped being fun for you when you found out your best friend had a thing for me," Sarah shot back. The _late bell _sounded. They both ignored it. "And no, Jax, I didn't _forget. _It's hard not to remember when the guy you're sleeping with—the guy who sleeps around _just as much_ as you do—calls you a whore—

"—what did you expect? I'd just found out you—"

"—slept with Opie? Big deal. How many of my friends had you fucked? _All of them_ unless you count Tara. You get a pass but I don't?"

"It's not the same thing—"

"—_Why_? Because he caught feelings?" Sarah shot him a look of amazement. "How many hearts you break, Jax? It doesn't matter if you never tell the lies all the others boys tell. You don't have to say _I love you _or pretend you want more than a quick nut. The girls _you _run through end up in the same boat as Harry...or _Opie _as that angry fuckin _midget_ calls him. You and me are the same and you know it. it's why we get along and it's why you don't _want _us toget along. You resent the fact that _your _actions hurt someone you actually give a shit about. You didn't want to take responsibility so you took it out my brother's face instead. Well _too bad_, Jax. Those wounds have healed and the facts still remain the same. The prince doesn't always get what he wants."

Jax stood there in silence. If there was a valid argument against everything she'd just said to him he couldn't even begin to think of it. He couldn't even bring himself to be annoyed by the smile of triumph on Sarah's face.

Sarah leaned in to him, hand on his chest as she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was lighter than usual, barely giving the pink tint of her lip gloss a chance to leave a mark on his mouth. "I'll see you later," she said, walking off before he could respond.

It wasn't like he had to.

She was probably right—she'd probably end up naked and on top of him before the day was over.

She was _definitely _right about everything she'd said prior.

Jax hated it worse than when his mother was right about something.

Love wasn't a part of this equation. There was no question of that. But as much as it irked him he felt a mutual understanding—if not respect—threatening to rear its head.

_"You headed to class?"_

Jax turned around at the sound of his best friends voice.

_Speak of the fuckin Devil._

Jax's eyebrows shot towards his scalp. "What's up, bro? I'm surprised you're not already in class. Donna take your leash off this morning?"

"Asshole," Opie barked even though they were both grinning. "She hopped out of the truck and took off into the school before I could get a word in. I took that as her way of saying she didn't want me to walk her to class."

_Looks like Tara's already rubbing off on her._

"How about we take it as a free pass on _going _to class?"

Opie chuckled. "You never go to first period. Why do you even show up?"

"You're already in the bowl," Jax answered, smiling. "I'm trying to stop you from you from drowining in it."

"What?"

"_Pussy whip._" Jax ducked, backing up as Opie swung on him. Jax's smile spread wider when Opie stopped charging towards him to stare at the freshly rolled joint in the Ziploc bag Jax had pulled from the deep pocket of his Jeans. "Come on, Ope. You never cut school any more. Take a break from being _Donna's boyfriend _for a day. Let's go get high in the sheriff station parking lot. Give Unser something to do beside sip vodka from his coffee mug."

Opie glanced over at the school building briefly before walking past Jax, punching him in his side. "Trucks parked over there. _Let's go_….she's already mad at me anyway."

Jax fell in step with him as they walked towards Opie's truck. Jax was reaching for the door handle when someone giggled behind him.

It was a familiar giggle—an annoying one. A giggle that sounded a lot like the Christmas bells that wouldn't stop chiming on his next door neighbor's house last winter—the same neighbor who called the cops on him when she saw Jax taking a fuckin plier to every cord that kept the irritating Holiday decoration running.

_Maize O'Keefe._

He knew when he turned around he would see Maize standing behind him. Jax also knew she only laughed that obnoxiously when she was trying to draw attention to herself.

What he didn't know or rather what he didn't _expect _was to see her running her firecracker-red nails down David Hale's chest.

Suddenly she looked over at him, eyes widened—like she was surprised to see Jax standing there.

"Hey, Jax," Maize purred, fluttering her eyelashes like a cartoon character. "I was just asking David about the first game of the new season. Can you believe it's almost Thanksgiving already?"

Jax bypassed all the bullshit she was talking, choosing comment on the _real _reason she was giggling loudly and pretending she didn't see him. "Hey, Darlin." Looking over at David he, said, "You know you can do better, right?"

David glowered. "Funny, I could say the same thing to someone else we know."

_Who?, _Jax wondered to himself. He knew he wasn't talking about Wendy.

Jax started to go down the list of female's he and David had in common and couldn't think of a single one off the top of his head. David went for the snooty bitches. The one's that thought you had to work for it...like a fuckin slave.

Maize was actually a surprising change. Not bad, especially since she'd gotten better with watching her teeth.

_You can thank _me_ for that, Douche bag. _

"Jax," Opie called from the other side of the truck. "We going or what?"

"You should head to class, Maisey," Jax said as he climbed into Piney's truck to do the exact opposite. Grinning at her he nodded his head towards David. "Don't let this douche bag keep you from getting an education."

"Says the asshole that's skipping school," David snapped. Then he pressed the auto-lock button attached to the car keys in his hand. A soft beep followed after his car door's locks clicked up. Pulling another set of keys—more specifically a ring of them—from his CHS letter-jacket, David started walking towards the school. "Let's go, Maize. I'll let you in the office on my way to class. This is the _last _time I'm doing this for you. Coach is gonna have my ass if he….."

David was too busy grumbling to realize Maize hadn't started walking behind him yet. She was too busy looking inside the pickup truck in front of her. Peering over at Opie she smiled bashfully—or at least that's effect she was going for.

"You'll have to forgive _my boys_," Maize joked. "They just can't seem to get along."

"Bye Maize," Opie said, shaking his head as he pulled out of the parking spot.

Jax tossed her a good-natured wink, if for no other reason than to—

Maize's giggle somehow managed to get ten times more obnoxious _and _louder.

David turned around, immediately noticing the gap between him and the girl he was doing a favor for. As Opie drove past him, the angry jock sent Jax a death glare that burned hotter than the sunlight beaming in through the windshield.

* * *

The drive through the parking lot was quiet, not even the radio playing.

When Opie finally pulled out of the school gates, Jax couldn't bite his tongue any longer.

Jax turned towards his best friend, a single eyebrow raised. "You gonna tell me why you were looking at him like that?"

Opie kept his face forward. "Who?"

_I'm surrounded by people who like to play dumb._

_I'm starting to think it's not an act._

"The _douche bag_." Jax's tone of voice screamed _DUH. _

"I wasn't looking at him," Opie responded making a sharp turn around the corner.

_Lying ass. _"Yes. You _were. _You were looking at him like you want to punch him in the throat. That's supposed to be my role. Since when do you hate Hale? What did he flirt with Donna or something?"

Opie shook his head. "Nah. I'm just starting to see what you're talking about."

"Being vague and evasive is my _mother's _role. What—"

Opie turned to glare at his best friend. Jax eyes widened in surprise. "Shut the fuck up, Jax. We didn't even light one up yet and you're already killing my buzz playing twenty questions."

_Definitely something about Donna, _Jax assumed._ That's only time you give _me _that look._

Jax held his hands up in mock surrender. "Case closed, bro," Jax stated. _I'd rather steer clear of your chick problems anyway._

Opie was making the final turn towards his block when Jax had an idea. "Let's go to the Club House. I think Gemma has some shit to do with Luann up in Lodi…so we should be in the clear until school hours are over."

"If she _is _there she's going to chop both our dicks off," Opie commented, making a U-turn anyway. "Donna's _really _gone' be pissed if that happens," he added, looking over at Jax.

As soon as their eyes met both teenagers burst out laughing. And Opie's moment of weirdness was forgotten—just like everything else that ever threatened to cause an argument or rift between them…it was swept under the rug where it was sure to stay.

Opie Winston and Jackson Teller could never stay mad at each other for more than a minute.

Who else was going to put up with them and their bullshit on a regular basis? Donna? Wendy? Sarah? Tara? Gemma, maybe?

Nope. Not unless they put up with _them _on a regular basis, too.

And that was not happening—they needed regular _breaks _from the special brand of crazy females brought into the mix.

* * *

Sarah was right.

Jax did see her later. He saw all of her in fact. And seeing the top of her head was a personal favorite of his. Jax heard her voice through the wall when she walked in the club house, asking Kyle, "Where's Jax?"

Jax already had his _fuck off _speech ready for her but when she stepped in the dorm room, locking it behind her Sarah didn't say a word to him. She pulled the zipper down on her dress and shimmied it down to her feet before crawling up the freshly made bed he'd been lounging on.

He didn't have to argue with her. And she'd even toned down the porn start routine just enough for him to actually enjoy _her _instead of tuning her out. When they finished she gave him some bullshit excuse about why she had to go—an excuse Jax happily accepted as he moved to roll another joint.

Whether it was the effect of his high from the joint he and Opie had already smoked earlier or the fact that he could actually enjoy some peace and quiet instead of talking after sex—when Jax finally got up, he'd been thinking about what a laid back afternoon he was having as he walked out into the Club house hall to go look find Opie and share the joint he just rolled.

Opie wasn't in the club house so Jax walked out to see if he was across the lot at the garage.

When he spotted Sarah's car still in the lot, initially he shrugged it off, assuming she was probably somewhere flirting with the prospects—or Kozik. Sarah loved throwing her underage ass at _Kozy._ Jax had no doubt that if he Kozik didn't think his Old man would break his neck for fuckin a teenage girl—which JT _would_—Sarah would have already gotten her way.

When Jax saw a familiar white Honda pull in next to Piney's pickup, automatically he knew his peaceful afternoon was over. He held a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the sun to get a better look at who was in the open garage.

Yup. Just as he thought.

_Shit._

He spotted them in the same second the Honda's driver-side door slammed shut, a soft click and a beep following. Opie was leaning against a truck Lowell Sr. was twisting a wrench underneath. Standing close enough for the toes of their shoes to touch was Sarah. She ran a hand down Opie's arm, giggling when he knocked it away. Opie was glaring at her so Jax knew whatever he was saying to her wasn't polite.

Unfortunately Jax also knew that all Opie's girlfriend would see is the _ex-girlfriend _he _looooveed_ pushing up on him. Nothing less than him shoving the honey blonde to the ground would satisfy Tinkerbelle.

Sarah on the ground was the only way Donna would be tall enough to kick her in the head.

"Hey, Jax," Donna said. Clearly she hadn't noticed them when she pulled into the lot. "Where's Ope?"

"I think he's in the Club house," Jax lied. He breathed a sigh of relief when Donna smiled. Nodding her thanks, the raven-haired girl walked past Jax to go find her man—probably to apologize for her latest overreaction.

As soon as the Clubhouse door closed, Jax took off across the lot.

"_I know it was _you," Opie seethed. "You're always starting shit. I wish Jax would find another—"

"—Sarah!" Both Sarah and Opie turned at the sound of Jax's voice.

Sarah grinned, jabbing a thumb towards Opie. "This fool thinks I had a heart to heart with his girlfriend…as if she'd give me a chance to talk before her fist is in my mouth."

Jax ignored her, wrapping a hand around her wrist. "It's time for you to go."

"Why, what happ—would you stop pulling me?!" Sarah yanked her arm out of his grip. "We're just talking…me and _Opie _have some catching up to do. And it's really none of your business. You _don't want that kind of relationship_ remember?"

"It's not about me."

"Then what is—"

"ARE YOU FUCKIN KIDDING ME?"

It was like a scene from a movie—in slow motion.

Opie stepped out of the garage.

Sarah turned around to smile at him.

Jax could actually _see _the tiny wrinkles on Donna's scrunched up nose as she drew her hand back.

Sarah was right for the second time that day.

When she turned back around, whatever sarcastic comment she had for Donna never made its way past as her lips.

Donna's fist knocked that shit right back down her throat.

_Jesus Christ. I should introduce _you _to Lumpy Feldstein._


	21. Chapter 21

**Sometimes LIFE IS A ZOO.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Tara felt like a lion.

In a cage.

At the zoo.

And everyone she knew was showing up to watch her suffer through her 4 P.M to 9 P.M captivity.

A lion was the perfect metaphor considering she was ten seconds away from biting that snot-nosed kid who had shoved a shopping cart into the back of her foot with when his _momeee_ wouldn't let him have the Cinnamon toast Crunch because "It has too much sugar in it".

Tara had been stocking the shelves at the time. She'd just finished when the shopping cart running into her sent her and the stool she'd been standing on flying forwards, her hand knocking the neatly stacked boxes off the shelves as she reached to balance herself.

When the young mother hurried off, pulling the brat by his hand without so much as an "I'm sorry" Tara had nothing but murder in her heart when she reached for the price tag gun on the bottom shelf.

God only knows what she would have done with it if Keith hadn't stepped into the aisle to tell her he needed her to, "_head over to register four_" because they were "_swamped with customers_" and Carlie needed to take another "_bathroom break"._

_Baby momma Hale needs to either do her job like the rest of us or stay her hobbling ass home so someone else could cover her shift AND her workload._

_That's what the fuck she needs._

Tara walked past Mr. Whitman, standing on line next to his wife while she complained about the shirt he was wearing.

_I bet you that's the excuse he uses when he trying to get sympathy from the students he screws. "My wife's a bitch and I'm lonely and misunderstood…oh and by the way this blowjob will count as 95% of your grade."_

Mr. Whitman smiled at her and Tara waved at him—or waved him off, she wasn't quite sure which.

* * *

Tara was just opening up register four. The checkout's conveyer belt _whirred _to life as soon as she pressed the button. Seconds later someone was already dropping their groceries on the belt as she cracked open a fresh roll of quarters and dimes for the register.

"_Good afternoon,_" Tara droned, not looking up yet. "Thank you for shopping at Monroe's. Did you get a chance to check out the new items on sale for this week?"

"I never read the sale's paper," said familiar voice. "I already know what I want before I enter the store and I leave as soon I get it."

Looking up at him, Tara wondered why the stink of greed and corruption didn't tip her off _before _Judge Hale addressed her.

Tara didn't even bother responding. She snatched up the first item on the belt—a twelve pack of the sparkling waters Tara recalled Gloria Hale drinking all the time—and aimed the barcode scanner at it.

"So I see you and Sarah are still close friends," Jacob Hale huffed, as she began putting the first of his items in a plastic grocery bag. "She hasn't even been back a week and you're already getting her into trouble—"

"—you see the sign right there?" Tara interrupted. "It says _we reserve the right to refuse service—_

"—Do I need to speak to your manager?" Jacob puffed out his chest.

_Always with the goddamn threats._

"What I was _trying_ to tell you is that _the store_ reserves the right to refuse service to anyone," Tara continued. She pointed at her chest. "_I _reserve the right to ring up your stuff, swipe that American Express card you love to flash, and tell you to pack your own groceries."

"Excuse me?"

"We usually leave that part of our service to volunteers or idiot coworkers who don't know how not to screw up anything else. I'm neither one of those. SO, moral of the story? _Bag up your own shit. _And you can tell my manager I said that…when she's finished talking to her boyfriend on the company phone."

"You kiss your daddy with that mouth?" Jacob sneered. "How is father _Blotto _anyway? Still sleeping in his own vomit I'm guessing…All that money you got him and he couldn't spare a couple thousand to check into a rehab? I guess your mother's cancer fried _his _brain, too. What an idiot."

"It was breast cancer, _asshole_," Tara growled. "You'd think you know that seeing as your _wife_ organized a fundraiser to help her. How much of that money did you keep for yourself anyway? I wonder if Gloria knows one of her _fifty_ tennis bracelets almost cost me a roof over my head. How do you think she'd feel about _that?_"

Jacob leaned in towards her, his palms pressed against the counter. "You threatening a judge, little girl?"

Tara leaned closer to him, green eyes locked with his. Then she shoved the box of sparkling waters off the belt, sending it crashing on top of Jacob Hale's three hundred dollar shoes.

Glass shattered, water splashed—and Hale jumped back, looking down at the aftermath.

"You _little_—"

"—No I'm threatening _you_," Tara snapped. "Take the rest of your shit and leave before I tell security you're harassing me. You might not realize but not everybody in this town is in your pocket. And you'll have even less friends if I start talking about what you did to me. The gag order never protected _you. _Your _children_ did…and my compassion is wearing real thin for _both _of them these days. _Stay the hell away from me_. I stopped being afraid of that gavel in your hand a long time ago."

Nostrils flaring, Jacob's shoes crunched over the broken glass as he moved to bag up the rest of his stuff. "Looks like hanging around that Outlaw del—"

"_Is everything okay here, Judge?" _

Tara and Jacob Hale both turned to face the woman standing behind him.

_Great. And the circle of "reason's Tara Knowles might end up in Juvie" is complete._

Jacob began angrily throwing random items into plastic bags. "Tell your son the _next_ time my daughter comes home with—"

"—I'm going to stop you right there," Gemma interjected, holding up her hand. "…before _you_ end up with a black eye to match hers."

_What?_

Jacob snatched his groceries from the wheel of plastic bags. ""Sometimes I think this town is too small," Jacob griped, walking away.

_Yeah, and not nearly as _Charming _as it claims to be._

Tara was reaching for the carton of eggs Gemma sat on the conveyer belt when Gemma's snickering forced her to look up.

"What the hell happened here?" Gemma said, her voice singsong. "You and the Hale's haven't kissed and made up yet? I thought for sure you were over here plotting to get me locked up _again_."

Tara tilted her head like a cobra deciding how it wanted to strike. "Why would we do that? _You still serving alcohol to minors?"_

A nasty smile spread across Gemma's face as she nodded her head. "One day that smart ass mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."

_FUCK THIS. _

"And _one day _you'll realize you're not a fuckin psychic. Until then go find someone else's future to read." Before Gemma could get another word in, Tara pulled a thick, red block from underneath the counter, slamming it in front of the eggs she'd been about to ring up. "This checkout counter is closed. Go get on one of the other lines."

Keith, the Assistant Manager's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open as Tara stalked towards him. Instead of fearing the consequences for being rude to a customer, Tara patted him on the shoulder. "_Clean up _at Register four. I'm taking my break now."

If Keith knew what Tara knew about sexual harassment laws he'd mind his own goddamn business.

That and call the maintenance guy to take care of the glass and sparkling water on the store floor.

* * *

Keith ended up calling Amber end to cover Carlie's shift. Karen Monroe had rushed her out of the store even as she lectured her on being a drama Queen.

"It's probably just Braxton Hicks!" Karen clucked as she escorted her half-waddling best friend out of the store.

Tara wasn't sure about the Braxton part of it but _HICKS_ sounded just about right to her.

Throughout the course of the night Tara ended up resuming the role of cashier—register six this time.

The herd of customers had finally thinned out. Only a few patrons remained.

One of them was yet another familiar face.

"Hey, Tara."

Tara looked up from the crossword puzzle in her hand. "It seems like everyone and their bitchy mother decided to go shopping today. Did I miss the announcement that Thanksgiving is three weeks early this year?"

"You can put down the weapon," Donna joked, looking at the barcode scanner Tara had just picked up. "I'm not here to be a bitch….I came to apologize for being one earlier. I'm sorry. I shouldn't take my shit out on you."

_Well since you said it._

"No you shouldn't."

Donna nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as she placed three boxes of cake mix on the counter. Tara immediately zeroed in on her fully bandaged right hand.

Tara winced, shaking her head. "You shouldn't take it out on Opie either…and I hope his face looks better than your hand probably feels."

"About that," Donna started. "I might have bloodied your best friend up a bit."

"_Jesus Christ_, Donna, I was kidding." Tara's eyes widened. "Why did you—what did he—"

"Not him," Donna corrected. "_Sarah_…I think you know the what and why to that."

Tara shrugged. "She tends to have that effect on people. _Ask and you shall receive_."

Donna giggled. "So you're not mad then?"

"Why would I be mad? You didn't punch _me_ in the face. And seriously Donna, I wouldn't recommend it with the shift I've been having. You might not get to make your chocolate cake," Tara said holding up the container of chocolate frosting in her hand, scanning the barcode on it.

"_German_ chocolate cake," Donna elaborated. "It's Opie's favorite. Ope says Piney's coming back from the cabin tomorrow so we're ordering Chinese and staying up late to play cards and hang out. We're trying to get in all the fun we can... my parent's come back from picking up my grandma tomorrow, too actually…"

"So _that's _why you snuck out! Just when I think you're finally learning how to rebel. _Sarah_ will be disappointed it wasn't about her though..."

Donna's eyes narrowed. "You were listening to us this morning?"

Tara snorted. "Not like I had to try very hard…although I would have preferred not to hear your other umm…_conversation_."

**_Ka-ching!_**

The cash register dinged open and Tara handed Donna her change.

"Thank you," Donna said, wisely choosing not to comment on the admission currently making both of their cheeks red. "You want to stop by the house when you get off? If so we can wait for you…"

Tara nodded. "Should I bring wine?" she joked.

Donna's answering smile was wide. "Opie found Piney's stash drawer. I think we're covered."

_Let the good times roll._

_I'll make my drunk daddy proud._

"See you soon, then."

* * *

**N**EX**T CHAPTER: **T**EQ**U**IL**A** DO**E**SN**'T** L**I**E….unless your name is Tara Knowles.**

**WAIT, **_WHAT?_


	22. Chapter 22

**"I'm an _expert _at that!" says every guy...especially the ones who are the exact opposite of what they claim.**

- **V**eritable **Old** Lady **C**row

* * *

Jax leaned his head back, guzzling the rest of the beer in his hand. "You need to stop flipping out on Ope, Donna. He's a teenage boy and you got him smoking like three packs a day," he joked.

Instead of laughing Donna's eyes narrowed. "I'm responsible for Opie's smoking habits? Interesting. Whose responsible for your alcohol addiction?"

Jax let out a loud burp, laughing when Donna wrinkled her nose. "I don't have an addiction. I just know how to loosen up."

Donna snorted. "So do the females you sleep with…apparently some of them even like having their _teeth_ loosened."

"Cocky doesn't suit you, Tinkerbelle," Jax teased. "You should stick to paranoid and pissed off. You're more entertaining that way."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Didn't you just tell me take it easy on your best friend? Make up your mind, Jax. Think you can do that every once in a while. Tara's a lost cause at this point but I'm still holding out hope that you'll figure out what the hell you want."

_Here we go. And you wonder why I need weed and liquor to be around you longer than ten minutes._

"What the hell does Tara have to do with you being a harpy all the time?"

"_Harpy?_" Donna cocked an eyebrow. "Jesus. You guys even talk the same."

Both teens looked up as the front door open. Opie walked in first, Chinese restaurant bags in each of his hands. Jax ignored him completely, his focus on the girl walking in behind him.

Tara.

"Hey _Lady Tee_," Donna mocked, giggling when Tara rolled her eyes.

"What's up, track star?"

Tara's eyes were on the ceiling again. "You know what? I'm starting to warm up to the idea of babe the pig as a nickname.

Donna choked on the drink she was sipping from the plastic cup in her hand. "You want to be called _what_?"

"Long story," Jax answered, grinning over at Tara. Smiling back at him, Tara's eyes never left his as she pulled her jacket off.

"Here we go," Opie commented dryly, walking back towards the kitchen.

"Here _what_ goes?" Donna turned to ask Opie's retreating back.

"_You'll see_."

Donna turned around just in time to see Jax pouring Tequila into two shot glasses, grabbing the one on his side of the coffee table as Tara picked up the one meant for her.

They knocked them back, sitting the glasses on the table at the same time.

"So," Tara said. "What are we playing? Crazy eights? _Gold fish_?"

Jax winked at her. "How about we test out your _poker _face?"

"You think you can read _me_?" Tara challenged.

_In a card game, yes. With everything else? I'm screwed._

Donna scoffed. "I don't even know how to play poker and I bet I can beat both of you."

"Anybody can beat _them_," Opie commented, sitting the two bags in his hand on the floor—one between him and Donna, the other between Jax and Tara napkins on the table. "Jax and Tara are the easiest people to read."

Jax pulled a deck of cards from inside the otherwise empty book bag behind him on the couch. Shuffling them twice, he moved to begin dealing them out but Donna swatted his hand.

_Wrong guy, Tinkerbelle. Your yes man is on the other side._

"Let's eat first," Donna suggested—well demanded nicely.

Tara reached her hand inside one of the bags on the floor between her and Jax. Feeling around she pulled her hand out, a pair of chopsticks in between her fingers. "We'll be here eating until tomorrow if you expect me to use _these_. What's a girl gotta do to get a fork around here?"

Jax leaned over her grabbing the Tequila bottle on her end of the table. Pouring two more shots he slid her glass closer. "Drink that first. Then I'll show you how to use them."

Tara cocked an eyebrow at him. "_You _know how to eat with chopsticks?"

Jax nodded. "Ask me nicely and I'll even feed you with them."

"Any excuse to put something in a girls mouth," Tara joked.

Instead of responding, Jax winked at her.

Across from them Donna groaned or maybe it was Opie—or both of them.

"I think I'm starting to _see_," Donna complained.

Opie chuckled. "You think this is bad? Just you wait. They're still _sober._"

Jax and Tara clinked shot glasses, both throwing them back at the same time. "Let's see it, Teller."

* * *

Jax didn't know how to eat with chopsticks his damn self.

Donna and Opie ate with their chopsticks in silence, laughing every so often when Jax or Tara tried and _failed _to bring the food to theirs lips without most of it falling back into the carton or on the floor."

"Well you can go ahead and scratch surgeon _and _teacher off your career list," Tara joked. "You suck at this."

"That's because I'm trying to teach you the _traditional_ way," Jax explained. "This isn't how _I _eat noodles."

Jax could tell Tara was already intrigued. But when she looked over at Opie and he shook his head her curiosity doubled. "Show me your way then," Tara requested.

"Don't do it, Tara," Donna urged, swallowing her smile.

Jax dipped the chopsticks back into the carton in his hand. "You ready?"

"For what?"

Jax grinned. "You gotta catch it before it falls, Okay?"

Tara nodded as her eyes narrowed in playful suspicion.

Jax slid closer to her, the carton in his hand hovering below their chins.

Jax's hand flicked up at the wrist and the clump of noodles in between the chopsticks were airborne, between them.

Tara jerked forward, catching the Lo-Mein in her mouth. Judging by the way her eyes widened she didn't anticipate Jax doing the same thing—at the same time.

They both caught it, too.

There was a bridge of noodles between their lips and Jax was wasting no time sucking them into his mouth, his face drawing closer and closer to Tara's.

Before he could get close enough for their lips to touch, Tara pressed the noodles between her fingers, severing his ties to her mouth.

Opie and Donna giggled. Tara stuck her tongue out at him and Jax rolled his eyes. "You _had _to ruin the moment, Knowles"

"This how you and Opie eat Chinese together?" Tara teased. "_Uh-oh_ Donna…I don't think you should be worrying about _girls _stealing your man."

"Opie did the same thing to me the first time I came over," Donna admitted. "Prince Charming's stealing his material."

A liquored up Jax scoffed. "Oh please. If that's the case _he_ stole it from Sarah_. _She's the one that was obsessed with Lady and the tramp. You remember, Tara?"

Tara cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ear. "umm…sure. Yeah I remember…"

"Jesus Christ," Opie mumbled under his breath. The sudden silence in the room made it easy to hear him however.

"How are things with you and your _boyfriend_, Tara?" Donna snapped, her eyes narrowing to slits. "You should invite him to come join us. Maybe Jax can show _him_ how to use chopsticks."

_As what? Weapons? Cuz if so I think he'd benefit more if _you _taught him._

It was like flipping a switch. Donna was insufferable for the rest of the night.

They couldn't even enjoy the chocolate cake she made in peace—and it was fuckin delicious.

Tara ended up ghosting off into the kitchen—carton of food in hand—and got a fork, choosing to eat it standing up next to the fridge.

That left the two teenage boys to deal with her nitpicking.

Five minutes—and about fifty different _failed _attempts at fixing his slip up—later Jax gave up. Shrugging at his friend, he walked out of the living room, Half empty Tequila bottle swinging in his hand as he headed towards Opie's room for the extra pack of cigarettes he knew he kept in his desk drawer.

* * *

Jax was laying on his back across Opie's bed when the bedroom door opened, closing back with a soft click.

The circle of lamps in the center of Opie's ceiling fan were off. The only light seeping into the room came from the window. But the darkness did nothing to hinder Jax's vision. He knew it was Tara without even looking in her direction.

"You used to be the _happy_ drunk," Tara commented. "Now you're the sleepy drunk apparently."

Jax shook his head, eyes facing the ceiling. "I'm neither one. I'm the _horny_ drunk."

Tara's light laughter whistled through the air as she walked towards the bed. "I don't think that has anything with the liquor."

Jax turned his head, looking over at her. "You're probably right."

Tara pushed against his shoulder. Jax took the hint and slid over to the other side of the bed. Tara lied on her back next to him. "What are you doing in here if you're not tired?"

"What do you think?" Jax turned towards her. "I'm trying to avoid death by chopstick…._shit _if I wasn't so drunk I'd take a page out of your book and hop out of Ope's window…take cover from the angry munchkin in his living room."

Tara giggled. "What is _wrong _with that girl? Even if Opie did have feelings for Sarah, does she really think being a raging bitch all the time is going to keep him from cheating?"

"That's the problem with you females," Jax said, propping himself up on his elbow—head resting against his palm. "You girls always doing shit backwards."

Tara snorted. "Not _us _girls. Just _that _girl. I wouldn't behave like her."

Jax scrunched his lips to one side of his face. "That so? _Okay_….What would you do if _your _boyfriend's ex was hanging around?"

"Nothing," Tara answered. "I'd trust him do the right thing…and then kick his ass if he did the wrong thing instead."

Jax shook his head. "Well get ready to kick his ass then…because sooner or later he'll do it."

"What are you an expert?"

"On cheating? _Hell yeah,_" Jax said. "I'm the guy girls cheat _with_…and plus I _am_ a guy so I know how guys think. Trust me, if he thinks he can get away with it he'll do it."

"I never said I'd let him get away with it," Tara argued.

"Well would you forgive him?"

Tara rested her head against the pillow on her side, staring up at the ceiling. "_Maybe_…probably…I mean we're all human. People make mistakes."

Jax chuckled. "That sounds like something only a person who _makes_ a lot of mistakes would say."

Tara shoved him in his chest. Jax grabbed her wrist before she could draw her hand back, holding it over the steady thump of his heartbeat. "I think... sometimes you have to make the same mistake a few times before you realize it's the wrong thing."

Tara snatched her hand away when Jax's response to her admission was to throw his head back on his pillow and laugh.

"Fuck you, Teller."

"I'm not laughing at you, babe," Jax explained. "I'm laughing at _all of you. _All of you girls are the same just like I said. You fly into rages for no valid reason. When your boyfriend's being a dickhead you take him back over and over because _it was a mistake _and he promised not to do it again. And if that's not stupid enough you go out of your way to make guys that aren't even interested in you jealous."

"When have I _ever_ done any of the above?" Tara challenged.

"I can get you from zero to pissed off in ten seconds flat if I wanted to. You denying that?"

Tara scowled, proving his point. "That's because you're an asshole."

"You basically just told me you'd forgive your boyfriend for cheating on you with his ex," Jax continued.

"Not even close to what I said but okay _Sarah_…and the jealousy part?"

Jax shook his head. "That particular brand of crazy isn't on you, babe. I was talking about Maize O'Keefe with that one."

Tara smirked. "What about her?"

"She tried to make me jealous with that douche bag Hale today. It was a pretty damn good idea picking the one guy I hate the most, but she's seriously nuts if she thinks I'd _ever _be jealous of Davey boy. Any girl he fucks I've already been with twice."

"You caught her with David?"

Jax shrugged, reaching for the Tequila bottle to his left. "It's not like they were hiding. They were in the middle of the parking lot. What the hell is up with those Hale's and parking lots? I heard his brother knocked that Carlie Jacobs chick up in the Monroe Market lot," Jax said, laughing.

Jax turned around when he didn't hear Tara join in with him. The look on her face made him put the bottle back down on the night stand. "What?"

Tara laid back on the bed, folding her hand over her stomach. "Nothing."

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"All of a sudden you're angry with me and I don't know what I said...even if I was sober I'd be confused. You gonna—"

"—there's nothing to be confused about, Jax," Tara interjected. "I just don't share your amusement at the fact that Jacob Jr. is an idiot that knocked a girl up and left her."

Jax sighed beside her. "I thought alcohol made people tell the truth." Jax reached for the bottle again handing it to her. "Maybe you need a little more Tequila in your system."

Tara took it, turning to place it on the night stand on her side. "I'm fine, Jackson. I'm just tired that's all. I guess_ I'm_ the sleepy drunk after all."

Jax reached over, tapping a finger against the tip of her nose. "What's going on? That cute nose of yours should be _growing_ by now."

Tara turned her head towards him. "I have a cute nose?" she asked, eyebrows rising as a sarcastic grin spread across her face. "I hope you use better lines than that on all the girls you're sleeping with."

Jax ignored the last comment, more focused on the rhetorical question she posed. "You have a cute everything." Tara rolled her eyes, turning to lay flat on her back again. Jax slide closer to her. "Actually…I take that back. Cute isn't the right word…it's more like _hot_," Jax amended before gently tugging at her earlobe with his teeth.

Tara sat up rod straight, her back against the headboard. "_Okay_, Teller. I think _you_ need a little less Tequila in _your_ system."

Jax laughed when she peeked over at him through her lashes instead of facing him. "I disagree. Being drunk is actually perfect for me right now."

"How's that?" Tara asked the wall on the opposite of the room.

"You have a boyfriend," Jax answered.

Tara's head snapped towards him, her eyebrows scrunching together. "_And?_"

"Sober me has to be the good guy…the one that doesn't hit on his _just friend_," Jax explained. "But you want to know something?"

Jax's lips were on hers before she could blink.

Tara gasped in surprise and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. Tara wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in towards her but Jax gripped her waist, pulling her over into his lap.

Their tongues danced, a slick rhythm that had him threading his hands in her hair. Gently nudging her head to the side he placed a hot, wet kiss on her neck. For some reason Jax's mind flashed back to the fading hickey that was on her collarbone before. Tara's moan vibrated against his lips as Jax began sucking a bruise along her throat, making his own mark—a brand that was sure to last more than a day.

Jax was slipping his hands underneath her shirt when Tara grabbed both his wrist. Pulling back she pinned him with her gaze, emerald eyes sparkling even in the darkness. "Tell me," she asked. "….tell me _something_."

Jax smiled. Leaning into her, his breath tickled her ear. "_Drunk _me doesn't give a fuck," he finished. Then he slid his hands up her back.

Unclasping her bra, Jax circled around to her front, palming her breast in his hands. Tara moaned low in her throat, her nipples hardening underneath his touch. Jax dropped his hands from her breasts, but her whimper of disappointment was cut off when he crushed his lips to hers. Flipping her onto her back, Jax's hips were a perfect fit as he slid in between her thighs. Tara wrapped her legs around him. Folding her legs behind his back, she pulled him in tighter, and Jax groaned into her mouth as she pressed against him. Jax had to wriggle his hand between them to slide the button of her jeans through the loop, yanking her zipper down right behind it.

Suddenly the bedroom door creaked open and light seeped into the room. "What the hell are y'all doing—"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Jax shouted, looking up to glare at the teenager standing in the door.

Opie chuckled. "This is _my _room, asshole," Opie said but he still stepped back out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.

"You'd think he'd be more upset that we're about to have sex in his bed," Tara observed.

"And I don't give a damn _which_ but _one _of you is washing my fuckin sheets!" Opie shouted through the door as an afterthought.

Tara and Jax burst out laughing at the same time.

Jax raked a hand through her hair. Brushing it behind her ear, he cupped one side of her face. "I think he's a _little_ upset."

"I changed my mind," Tara cracked. "You're an _angry _drunk."

Jax shook his head, grinning. "I'm just tired of him always interrupting me when I'm with you."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Right. Because we do this all the time."

Jax brought one of her hands up to his mouth, brushing the tips of her fingers lightly against his lips. "I'm not just talking about this…it doesn't matter where we are and what we're doing. I can never get five minutes alone with you without someone popping up like a fuckin poltergeist."

Tara giggled. "I'm usually happy for the distraction," she admitted.

"_Honesty_," Jax chimed, his eyes widening. "It's about time that liquid courage kicked in…" Jax leaned down, the tip of his nose pressing against hers, his lips parted, just barely touching hers. "Tell _me _something, Tara….were you happy for a distraction this time?"

Tara's smile faltered. Pushing against his chest, Tara sat up, turning to face the bedroom door when Jax reluctantly lifted up off of her, sitting up behind her. "Not at first," Tara admitted.

_Why the FUCK did I ask her that? _

Jax swallowed hard. "And _now?" _

Tara shook her head. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were glassy. "I'm not doing this on purpose, Jax. I _swear._"

Jax wrapped his arms her, his hands folded into a tent on her stomach. "I know," he said, kissing her shoulder. "Trust me. I'm not either. _I_ swear."

"I can't have sex with you," Tara said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You _can't _or you don't _want _to?"

"I have a boy—"

"—that's not what I asked you." When Tara didn't respond Jax sighed, moving one of his arms from around her waist to reach for her hand, threading her fingers through his. "_People make mistakes_, huh?"

"Yeah," Tara agreed. "We all do."

Tara's words were an echo that stirred something deep inside him. Jax didn't know what it was—he just knew it felt like shit.

"Maybe it's not a mistake," Jax wondered out loud. "Maybe you're just acting on what you feel…it's—"

"—I swear to God, Jax. If you say _fate_ I'm banning you from ever reading Shakespeare _again._"

"Come on, babe," Jax said, tracing circles around her navel with his fingers until she squirmed. "Does that sound like some shit I would say?"

"I don't think we should say anything anymore," Tara admitted. "Something tells me I didn't drink enough to forget it in the morning."

"If you _did_ we wouldn't even be talking right now."

"You're probably right."

Jax crawled backwards towards his side of the bed, laying on his side. It was as if she could feel him staring at her—as if she could sense what he was asking with her eyes.

Without even looking back, Tara wordlessly scooted backwards, stopping only when her back was against his chest. She reach a hand around, pulling his arms around her. And they laid there in silence.

For a little while anyway.

"Tara?" Jax whispered against the back of her neck.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so _fuckin_ hard it hurts."

Tara giggled. "I can _tell._"

"Well then call you move over a little bit? _I'm gonna need a minute_."

"Sure..sorry," Tara answered, sliding away from him.

The chill hit him like an avalanche—and Jax found his hands involuntarily gripping her hip.

"Never mind," Jax said, pulling her back against him again. Her hair smelled like vanilla and honey. The scent washed over him, intoxicating him in a way all the liquor in his system could never accomplish, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I can handle it…it won't be the first time you tortured me."

_And something tells me it won't be the _last, Jax thought, as he closed his eyes.

* * *

When Jax opened his eyes two minutes later he immediately noticed three things.

One—two minutes was really two _hours_.

Two—Opie was snoring on his bedroom floor.

And three?

Tara was gone. She'd slipped out when he fell asleep.

_Whose stealing whose material _now?


	23. Chapter 23

**Skip, **skip,** skip to my** lou,

**Skip to **my lou**, my Dar**lin'

- **Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Tara spotted his car a couple seconds too late.

She'd already reached back up to pull Opie's window closed. And when she turned around David was leaning over the railing of her front steps, looking at her like she was Big Foot.

"Tara?"

Tara rushed to the front of the house, cursing under her breath when she realized she didn't have her house keys—again.

"What are you doing here, David?"

"Did you just climb out of Opie's window?"

_Sounds like you already know the answer. No worries though._

_I'll play along._

"No," Tara lied. "I was in my backyard."

"What were you doing in your backyard then?" David questioned behind her as she bent over to try to find the key she'd hidden in the front yard somewhere.

_Digging your grave for when you finally make me snap._

Where the hell had she put it? This was why drinking and maintaining basic cognitive function didn't mix.

Sarcasm was her only functioning ability.

"You're lying, Tara. I saw you," David accused.

Tara spun around, steadying herself on the railing. "And I saw _you, _asshole!" Her temper still worked fine, too. "And it turns out I'm not the only one seeing you around with that Maize O'Keefe _bitch_!"

"Are you _drunk?_"

"What's the matter? You think I'm turning into my daddy? I'd be more scared of turning into my own father if I were _you_."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Tara stuck up her middle finger. "_Fuck you_. That's what it means."

"Tara, nothing is going on with me an Maize," David explained. "It's not what you think—"

"—I'm bored with thinking about anything that has to do with you, _Davey boy_."

"I guess that answers my question as to _who _you got drunk with…and who's feeding you bullshit to turn you against me."

"_Whatever._" Tara moved to walk past him, but David held her in place, one hand on her shoulder, the other nudging her head to the side.

"Is that a _hickey_?"

"Get off of me." Tara jerked away from him.

David glared at her. "You're such a hypocrite, Tara. You call _me_ a Liar? You cut _me_ off for cheating on you?" David pointed at her neck. "Where the fuck did _that_ shit come from?"

Even in her slowly fading Tequila haze, Tara had the decency to look guilty.

David shook his head. "I'm the biggest idiot in the word. Here I am trying to make you jealous and you're fuckin Teller."

"I am _not!_"

"I guess Sarah was right," David continued as if she never spoke. "It only works if the person actually gives a shit. Clearly you don't."

"I never said that—"

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO!" David pointed at the mark on her neck again.

Tara's eyes snapped towards the window she'd vacated moments before.

David followed her line of vision. "Is he in there now?" David walked around her, headed through the middle of the two houses, Tara on his heels.

Tara placed a hand on his shoulder. "David, don't—"

David whirled around and she stumbled back balancing herself on the side of Opie's house.

"_He's an asshole, Tara. _He'll have a gun in his hand before he gets a diploma and he goes through girls like they're items on a shopping list. And yet you chase after him like he's going to treat you any different. _You _know he's just going to hurt you in the end. It doesn't matter if he does it purposely or not, it all ends the same way. What the hell do you even see in him? I know it's not his looks. You're not that shallow, Tara."

"It's complicated—"

"—then let me _simplify_ it for you," David interrupted. "Right now you're the thing he can't have so he's chasing you…but that's all it is. It's the chase. He's just playing a game, you're the trophy and as soon as he wins he'll put you up on the shelf and move on to the next season. _I'm not waiting around to be your plan B._"

"You're not a plan, Dav—"

"—I love you, Tara. _Not_ him_. I _do. Why can't you just let me? And stay the hell away from him."

"He's my friend—"

"_Bullshit_." David violently jerked his head left to right. "Friends don't suck on each other's necks."

"_I'm sorry._"

"Do you even want to be with me? Or am I just your security blanket for when he's too busy screwing other girls to hold your hand. Do you love me?…Do you love _him_?"

Tara raised her hands, her fingers stinging as she slapped them down against her thighs. "_I don't know_."

David moved towards her. Closing the gap between them, David grabbed her face, an almost bruising grip on her cheeks as he crushed his lips to hers.

It was all Tara could do to keep up with the frenzied tempo—the movement of his lips, the ways his tongue lashed out at hers.

When she reached up, snaking her hands around his neck, he pulled them off of him, stepping back.

"_Figure it the fuck out,_ Tara. I'm done taking all the blame. All my cards are on the table now. It's your move, baby."

Tara was still leaning against Opie's house when David's car pulled off from the curb.

_What hell are you doing, Tara?_

Tara climbed into her dining room window, tripping over a cap to one of her father's many finished bottles of bourbon on her way to her bedroom.

* * *

The next morning Opie was waiting for Tara, sitting on her front steps when she stepped outside, pulling the front door shut behind her.

"No three musketeers this morning?" Tara commented as she twisted the lock on the door, shoving her house keys down into the front pocket of her shorts.

The sun was beaming down on them and Tara was happy she'd done the smart thing—she'd popped the advil _before _she got ready. Wincing at the brightness of day aside, Tara's hangover was nonexistent.

Thank god for drunk daddy-day camp. That and the gift of youth.

"Jax went home dipped out shortly after you did," Opie explained. "I think he went to meet up with Wendy."

"I haven't seen her around in a couple days," Tara droned. "I bet they have a lot of _catching up _to do."

Opie chuckled. "I think Donna's rubbing off you. That passive aggressive bullshit is why I'm sitting out her waiting for you instead of driving to pick her up."

"What happened?" Tara asked, sitting down next to him.

"That Hale asshole contacted Donna's parents. They came home early…grounded her for breaking curfew and getting into a fist fight."

"_Shit," _Tara hissed. "I guess if he can't go after Gemma he needs another target."

"What does Gemma have to do with anything?"

Tara stood up. "That's right. I forgot to tell you about my favorite day of work to date. I'll tell you on the ride. I don't want to be late."

"Of _course_ you don't." Opie smirked, falling in step with her as they headed towards the truck.

* * *

Tara was just finishing up on the Gemma part of her shift when Opie pulled into a parking spot on the school lot.

Neither one of them noticed the familiar car parked a couple rows over as Tara waved her hands in front of her, fully animated as she rehashed the story.

"...so I told her exactly where she could shove her tarot cards—

"—you told her to shove tarot cards up her ass? Really?"

Tara slapped his arms. "Shut up. You never heard of paraphrasing stupid? This is why Donna forces you to go to all your classes. You need your education, _Harry._"

"I love her, Tara... but I don't know how much longer I can put up with the crazy."

"I'll try to talk to her in English—"

"—like you did last time? Nah, I'm good. It's my shit. I'll handle it."

"As you wish, champ." Tara shrugged. "Good luck with that."

Opie cocked his head to the side. Tara mushed his hand way when he poked the purpling bruise on the side of her neck. "I'm curious…what excuse are you gonna give the douche bag for that hickey on your neck?"

_Since when do _you_ call him douche bag?_

_Hmmm…maybe he caught David flirting with Donna or something._

_Wait, no. He'd tell me _that.

"He saw it last night," Tara admitted. "You're not the only one on probation. I got it covered though. I told him it was Dracula. Vampires have that glamour shit. I can't be held responsible."

Opie chuckled. "There's nothing glamorous about Jax. I don't give a shit how many girls he gets. He dresses like fuckin Farmer John. I never knew plaid existed in so many colors…"

Tara cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know I wasn't talking about _Kyle_? I hear he has a thing for me."

"I know because he wants to _wear_ a reaper on his back. He doesn't want to _meet _one," Opie said, grinning.

Tara folded her arms across her chest. "What are you my big brother now or something?"

Opie plucked her on her forehead. "I wasn't talking about _me_ and you know it."

"Whatever…and you wonder why I don't feel bad about Donna."

Opie fixed his mouth into a mock-pout. "You don't feel a _little _bad?"

"Okay…maybe a little…"

"Thought so."

"Come on _Big brother Opie," _Tara teased. "You know what? I'm gonna talk to Tinkerbelle anyway. Do the whole girly bonding thing in English."

Opie shrugged. "I'm still not helping you with David. Unlike you _I_ can pick a side. And I'm backing your _vampire."_

The first period bell rang.

Opie held his arm out, bending it at the elbow. Tara linked hers within his and the two of them walked arm in arm—Tara giggling as she tried and failed to get Opie to _skip-to-my lou_ with her through the parking lot.


	24. Chapter 24

**Seeing is **believing**.**

**Or is **believing** seeing?**

**I think people only see what they want to believe. Well…**sometimes** anyway.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**P.S: This chapter almost didn't make it. I **hope** you guys like it. I had to force myself to post instead of highlighting everything and pressing [**delete**]. #truestory**

* * *

Opie Winston was one lucky son of a bitch.

Because if heat vision actually existed, Jax would have already turned his best friend into a human torch when he set his ass on fire with the glare he was shooting him.

Opie and Tara were leaning against Piney's truck, laughing and whispering to each other like the High school prom King and Queen that everyone secretly wished would get pregnant and break the fuck up already.

That's what Jax saw in his mind anyway.

When Tara's rubbed her hand along Opie's arm, Jax wanted to take a tire iron to his best friend's Humerus bone.

When Opie tickled her neck, making Tara giggle, Jax wanted to give his friend a bruise that was entirely different from the one he'd branded on Tara's neck the night before.

When Opie flicked her forehead and Tara laughed Jax wanted to punch him in _his _forehead.

And when Opie puckered up his lips like he waiting for a kiss, Jax reached for the handle on the car door.

"Easy there, Tiger," Sarah said from the driver's side. "They're just talking, Jax."

_"Just talking_ is the reason for all that make up caked on your face," Jax taunted.

Instead of reacting, Sarah looked back out across the lot through Jax's passenger side window. "You gotta admit…they do look cute together….they're just like you and Tara _used_ to be….well sort of."

_I should have let Donna get a few more punches in before I pulled her off of you._

"Shut up, Sarah."

"They'd make a cute couple. I actually think—"

Jax spun around to glare at her. "—you think this shit is funny don't you?"

Sarah giggled. "Kind of. Yeah, I do…._relax_, Jax. It's not like we have any proof its true…although if it _is _I think it'd be best if we shared a little family history—"

"—well I _don't!"_

_And they're friends just like Opie said. Friends as in _friends_. Not _our _fucked up version of friends._

"No need to get hostile," Sarah warned. "I'm following your lead, Darlin. If you think we shouldn't say anything I won't….but you know how chatty I can get. Sometimes things just slip out…"

Jax pulled the lever on the car door, pushing it open. "I'm going to class."

_Before I kick your annoying ass._

"See you soon," Sarah called after him as he swaggered off towards the school building.

* * *

The last time Jax stepped foot in his science class was the third week of school.

He'd promised the new secretary in the main office that he would go to all his classes for the first month without cutting any of them. But the Club put everybody on lock down the last week of September, otherwise he would have honored his word. Jackson Teller always strived to keep the promises he made.

That's why he didn't make them often.

But Miss Breann? The twenty something with the tight ass and no gag reflex? She could have gotten an extra month out of him if she knew better.

She was the reason he'd found out about Mr. Whitman sleeping with students. _Takes one to know one_ was Jax's guess.

"_Jackson Teller,_" Mr. Elkridge exclaimed as soon as he stepped into the room.

Everyone turned their heads to gape at him in shock.

Tara was the first one to turn back around and resume her conversation with that damn band geek Jax recognized from their third period math class.

_Is this the boyfriend you'd forgive?_

_HA._

_I bet you only said that shit cuz you know he'd be stupid to cheat on you._

"Morning, Mr. _Ell," _Jax said, staring over at Tara.

"You're late," the science teacher commented. "Although I suppose it's a miracle you showed up at all. You're like a solar eclipse, young man."

The whole class laughed but it was Tara's giggle Jax honed in on. "Do I just pick a table or what?"

"I just finished pairing everyone in groups of two," Mr. Elbridge announced. "I suppose I could stick you in…._hmm_…where should I—"

Tara turned back around. The small smile on her face almost looked like an invitation.

But then her eyes widened briefly, before she rolled them, turning back around.

Seconds later, Jax didn't have to wonder why.

_"Is this Mr. Elbridge's class?"_

The teacher turned towards the classroom door. "Yes. That's correct," he said, adjusting the glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

"I just transferred here two days ago," Sarah explained, handing him the paper in her hand. "Guidance is still working out the kinks in my schedule."

"I see," Mr. Elbridge said, scanning the paper. "_Wonderful." _The middle aged man looked up at Jax. "Looks like I'll get to keep my groupings of two after all. Teller, _Ms. Hale, _grab a test kit and booklet. Get to work."

* * *

Gemma was waiting for him at the door when he got home. His father was in his usual spot at the head of the dining room table, reading a novel. The second he looked up him, Jax was ready to cave.

To hell with all the anger, he missed his father. And if him feeling guilty about what the club did to Tara was the trick to getting JT to come out of the catatonic state he'd been in these past few months Jax was willing to swallow his own disappointment and patch things up—be a family again.

But then Gemma sat down with them.

And before his father could get a word in Jax's mother was lecturing him on Tara, casting all the blame on her. If _SAMCRO _was a company, Gemma Teller was its spokesperson. And _Tara_ was the Salmonella outbreak that started their PR nightmare. JT was blameless, according to Gemma. He did what he had to do for his family, she explained. That's what men do, "they know how to make the hard choices," his mother told him.

Gemma Teller was way off the mark and she didn't even know it. She thought it was the threat of retribution from the Club that saved her ass when really Tara did it for her son.

And Tara never wanted to cause his mother—his family—trouble to begin with.

Looking in his father's eyes he could see through the mask JT normally hid behind. That was how he knew his father understood what was bothering him the most. It wasn't that he threatened her. Jax threatened people all the time and he always followed through.

So that was the question.

Tara doubted it.

Opie didn't believe it at all.

And Jax didn't _want _to believe it but he knew he'd never get right with his father if he didn't ask him point blank.

What if Tara hadn't done what they wanted? Would JT sit back and let it happen? Let his brother's take care of his problem for him? Hurt a teenage girl? Or would he _be a man _as Gemma says and handle it himself. Jax always thought he knew his father. But lately he had him questioning everything, even the men he'd always hoped to share a patch with when he was old enough to prospect.

He had to ask him outright. The truth was waiting for him, he knew it by the wistful expression on his Old man's face. But what he couldn't tell was if he'd love or hate the answer.

Jax sat in strained silence as his mother ranted about the girl who'd been "nothing but trouble" since she gave Jax the chickenpox. He wasn't really listening. And when Gemma finally left to go take care of something at _TELLER-MORROW, _Jax grabbed his hoodie and walked out, leaving his father at the table. He wanted to talk to him, sure. But there was someone else he wanted to talk to. JT made Jax wait all this time for him to let him back in.

_You can wait a few hours_, Jax thought as he pulled the front door shut behind him.

* * *

It was a happy coincidence.

Jax was about four blocks up from his house when Piney's truck drove past him. Seconds later the pickup pulled in at the curb several feet ahead of him. Jax opened the passenger side door, climbing inside without saying a word. He was enjoying the silence, it was the reason for him walking.

Opie had other ideas.

"So what are you running away from home or something?"

Jax smirked. "No, asshole. I needed to clear my head."

"How is it that we're teenagers and we're always the ones clearing our heads about something?" Opie wondered out loud.

Jax shrugged but Opie was too busy make a left turn to see it.

"Piney's back," Opie said.

Jax nodded. "Do you think he'll notice?"

Opie snickered. "After the damage you and Tara did? _No shit._" Opie leaned down, reaching his hand down towards the floor on his side of the truck. When he pulled his arm back up, there was a familiar glass bottle in his hand that had yet to be opened. "I got you covered….I snatched from the Club house when Kozy wasn't looking. Even if they do notice its missing they'll probably just blame the prospect."

Jax and Opie laughed together.

"That's fucked up, bro," Jax said. "I appreciate it though. Better Kyle than me."

"So…where we headed? Piney or Clubhouse?" Opie asked, as he stopped at the light.

"Actually, I want to go see Tara," Jax admitted.

"_Wow,"_ Opie said. "Too bad Donna's still pissed at me. She would have loved to hear this shit….Jackson Teller just said _Tara _and the word _want _in the same sentence."

"_Shut the fuck up."_

* * *

Jax felt silly knocking on her front door.

He could hear the music blasting all the way from her front yard. When he looked over at Opie, his best friend offered him no explanation or comment. He just laughed, shaking his head as he walked towards his own house. When no one answered, Jax craned his neck to peek through the window but the blinds were too shuttered for him to make out much, so he took a gamble and pushed the front door open.

Tara was in the middle of her living room—_dancing_.

She wasn't stressing, wasn't biting her nails in frustration. She didn't look conflicted or confused.

She was just…dancing.

Jax briefly wondered if Tara had been wrong. Maybe she_ had_ drank enough to forget the next morning. But when she turned twirled around, hands high above her head, her eyes widened and he knew the alarm wasn't because she was surprised to see him standing behind her.

Maybe it was at first, but he saw the moment when her mind flashed back the night before. _There _was that confliction he'd been expecting—that and every other emotion he was feeling reflected back at him.

But then her face change. She swallowed it all, a mischievous smile spread across her face.

This was Tara sweeping it under the rug—hoping he'd fall in line like always and just let it go.

_Nope. Not today._

Jax walked over towards the stereo, turning the dial for the volume down.

"Just make yourself at home, Teller," Tara snarked, walking up behind him.

Jax turned around to face her. "_Tara, _last—"

Tara leaned in close to him, pressing her nose against his. Slowly, she shook her head _no_—the most playful of Eskimo kisses. Then she reached around him and cranked the volume up even louder than it was before. Grabbing his hands, Tara pulled him back towards the center of the room, shaking her hips to the music.

Jax shook his own head this time, pulling out of her grip. But then she started _voguing._ It was the worse Madonna impression he'd ever seen in his life. And it didn't even go with the song.

Tara shoved against his shoulders. At first he thought it was because he was laughing his ass off at her, but then she mouthed, "Dance with me," and he realized she _actually_ expected him to join in and dance with her.

Jackson Teller didn't dance. All the cardio he did on Saturday nights was strictly behind closed bedroom doors.

_HELL NO. I'm not—_

Tara's smile fell.

Jax couldn't believe this chick had the _nerve_ to pout—fake pout at that. Like he couldn't tell she was full of shit. How many girls had tried to guilt him into doing shit with no results? Jax would need more than just his fingers to count them all out.

But the brunette standing in front of him now seemed to have the blueprint on how to get her way with him. Every string he had, she knew just how to pull on it.

_Fuck it._

Jax started shrugging his shoulders up and down to the beat and Tara's giggle rippled straight through him, warming his chest even though it didn't quite carry over the music.

"_Check this out_," Jax shouted—trying and failing to talk over the music.

He transitioned into the most malfunctioning Robot dance Tara had ever scene. He couldn't hear her voice but he watched her mouth moving. She was too busy bouncing and twisting around for him to make out everything but he definitely caught the word _Tin Man_, when she pointed at the stiff movement of his arms.

Jax reached out to pull her into him but she scooted back, never once losing her groove. He lunged towards her again and she side-stepped, sticking her tongue out at him. Pretty soon he wasn't even trying to grab her. He was simply mirroring her movements. When she rocked her hips to the left, he was right there with her.

When the song changed, Jax took a couple steps back from her. Tara's eyebrows briefly knotted together in confusion but then he abruptly broke into the scariest _running man _in the history of dance moves.

Tara leaned back almost falling over the back of her living room couch. She gripped her knees, keeling over, laughing at how ridiculous he knew he looked.

Jax came over to talk to her.

He was here to confront her—and he _would._

Just as soon as they got tired of making fools of themselves, with Jackson Teller being the biggest fool of the two of them.

Jax moved in towards her, pulling her back up on her feet.

Tara was sandwiched between Jax and the back of the couch, moving against him.

It didn't happen until she twisted around, one hand reaching back, her palm curled at the back of his neck.

It wasn't until she rocked back against him.

That was when he realized that _sober _him didn't really give a fuck either. But this time he wouldn't tell her. He wanted to show her, and when he spun her around, picking her up by her waist to prop her up on the back of the couch that was exactly what he intended to do.

Then the music died.

Tara craned her neck over his shoulders to see what happened. Her eyes widened, she shoved his hands off of her hips, and Jax turned around to see her father leaning against the counter above the stereo, an open bottle of bourbon in his hand.

"Well _this_ is new," Arthur Knowles half-slurred, before taking a long swig from the bottle in his hand. He and Jax had twin expressions of disgust as they looked at each other from across the room. "So you're fuckin _SAMCRO Junior, _huh? I guess you got tired of the other one…._Harry _was it?"

Jax couldn't help spinning around to study her expression. He felt like shit but it was a relief for him to see her nose wrinkling in disgust instead of eyes widening in shock at being outed.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about, _Arthur_," Tara said through her teeth.

All her father did was laugh. He didn't even look in their direction again. He just turned the corner leading into the back hallway of the house, tipping his head back as he guzzled down his favorite meal of the day. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Your mother was a biker whore, too. Why should you be any different?...You better make sure this one wraps it up," Arthur tossed over his shoulder. "Bikers don't make time to take care of their own kids…"

_I wonder if Tara would be okay if you just went missing one of these days, you stupid, ungrateful son of a bitch._

Jax reached for her without looking and all he felt was air. He turned to see Tara had moved away from him. When he turned his head she was sitting on the couch. Her shoulders were shaking, her hairs a long, thick curtain of brown, concealing her face.

Jax walked around, sitting down next to her. He didn't know what to say to her. But he knew he had to say something. "I'm sorry your Old man's such an asshole."

Tara's head jerked up, and the suspicion in her eyes made it chest feel tight. "You sure that's _all_ your sorry about?"

_Huh?_

"What are you talking about, Tara?"

Tara cocked her head at him, her eyes narrowing. "My Old man, the asshole? You were watching him…but I was watching _you_. If _he's _the asshole why are you the one that looks guilty about something?"

_Jesus Christ._

"I just think it's shitty that you have to deal with that all the time," Jax lied.

Tara shook her head. "He calls my mother a biker whore all the time…always going on and on about _SAMCRO, _but my father's a lazy drunk so most days I just ignore him…..but you looked like you knew what he was talking about. You want to tell _me _what he was talking about?"

It was the first and only G_et out of jail free!_ card Tara had ever given him. Never before had she ever granted him the opportunity to throw her own words back at her until now. Twenty-five seconds left on the clock, and this was Jax's Hail Mary pass.

And he knew Tara would only let him use it once.

"_Not now, okay?"_

Tara's eyes widened. "What do you _mean_—"

"—I trust you, Tara," Jax urged, "so you need to know it's not _that. _And you're right I do know…_something_. But it has nothing to do with"—Tara's eyebrows rose, and Jax switched gears—"okay, it _does _but you're not the only one involved."

Tara looked down at her lap. "So my mother was like a croweater or something?"

Jax chuckled before he could control himself. When she glared up at him he sobered up pretty damn quick though. "_Nah_, babe. It's nothing like that." Jax moved over, closing the space between them. He placed a hand on her knee, pressing it over hers. "I'm not saying I can never tell you….It's just gonna take a minute—"

Jax stopped short when Tara rolled her eyes, smiling at him. "_Don't push it_, Teller. You're already trying to use the excuse _I _gave _you _for your own benefit…Jesus, Jax. Do you or Opie ever go to English class? Didn't anybody ever teach you how to paraphrase? You're stealing my words verbatim."

"Actually," Jax corrected, "I'm using your words against you. It works better when you use the _exact _words."

"I think you're finally getting this whole _Prince Charming_ thing down," Tara taunted. "Just as long as no one expects you to Waltz. I see why you never dance at parties, Jax. You have no rhythm."

_Wanna bet?_

"Trust me, Tara. I've got rhythm where it _counts."_

Jax caught her off guard when he grabbed her face, pressing his lips to hers. It was a kiss of contradictions—tender yet _rough_. Jax coaxed her mouth open, a shiver rippling through him when she moaned into his mouth as their tongues tangled together. She leaned over towards him, not quite on his lap. His hand was raking along her side, he couldn't figure out where to put it. He had so many tempting options—her slender waist, the perfect curve of her hip, the tight ass that was always taunting him in those denim shorts she loved to wear.

He couldn't decide—and he didn't have to.

Tara abruptly jumped back, landing on the other end of the couch. He heard her hiss, "_Damn it!" _under her breath right before she smacked her hand over her mouth, shaking her head at the floor like she'd just stepped on someone's pet by accident.

_I can't believe _I'm _the one saying this. _"I'm not saying it wasn't fun but I didn't come over here to dance with you…I came because I _wanted to talk to you_."

Tara snorted. "Isn't that _my_ line, too? Try being original for once."

Jax chuckled. "It might be your line but of course you never say it when I want you to…or when you _need _to…"

Tara turned her head towards him—slightly. Face slanted, she peeked over at him through thick lashes. "You want to know why I would forgive my boyfriend for making a mistake? Because I'd want him to forgive me…and I honestly think he _would._"

Jax shook his head. "Maybe the first time he would. But what about the second time? The third? At some point it stops being a mistake. It's a _choice."_

Tara giggled—and it reminded Jax of Maize O'Keefe. The laughter was forced, and it only made his frown deepen.

"You sound like an afterschool special, Jackson Teller."

"Damn it, Tara. Can you stop cracking jokes and be serious for minute?"

Instead of giving in like he wanted her to, Tara posed a challenging question of her own. It was one with a double meaning that made him regret ever pursuing this conversation.

It was amazing how she always managed to flip the script.

"Since when do you want _serious _anything, Jax?" Tara fired off.

_Since I can't stop fuckin thinking about you._

_Since you won't leave me THE FUCK alone even when I close my eyes to go to sleep._

_Since I sat in the middle of the school parking lot and thought of all the ways I could murder my best friend because he's there for you in the way you won't let _me_ be._

_Since THEN you stubborn pain in my ass._

He should have said it.

He should have said everything he was thinking about as her eyes searched his, her breath shallow as she drank in every emotion swirling in the ocean-blue.

And he wanted to….SO BAD.

But she was looking at him like she already knew the answer. Like she wasn't confused, she just needed a confirmation, some sort of sign that she'd finally won.

But won what exactly?

Opening up meant throwing caution to the wind, putting his heart on his sleeve.

Like Opie did.

_And look where the hell that got him._

Like Donna did.

_Always fighting. Always scared someone's going to take her spot._

Like Piney.

_Ope sees his mom once a year if he's lucky. And she was supposed to be SAMCRO for life—Piney's ride or die for life. The tattoo on her shoulder was proof...that promises don't mean shit._

Like his Old man.

_Gemma drives _me _crazy. Is she making him miserable, too? Is my mother, the reason JT can't stand to be around anymore. Is the woman in his life—the one he gave his heart to the reason he's always running off to Ireland without giving the son that's still living a second thought?_

Jax didn't know what it was he was feeling. All he knew was that he couldn't put a label on it. It had to remain nameless. Tara was asking for the opposite. She was demanding the truth from _him _as if she wasn't the one in a relationship.

He couldn't do it.

His pride wouldn't let him.

_Fear _wouldn't let him.

"I _don't_," Jax lied, giving her his signature Lady Killer smile. "I'm just trying to help this mysterious boyfriend you won't tell me about…I feel kind of bad that I'm the reason you need his forgiveness all the time. I guess we're still adjusting to this whole being _just friends _thing."

Tara stood up from the couch. Turning her back to him she began walking away. "I have homework to finish. I'm helping the Monroe's and Oswald's with setting up their booths at the Fundraiser tomorrow morning so I need to get myself together so I can go to bed at a decent hour."

_Hot and Cold. Cold and Hot. I swear I'm gonna catch fuckin pneumonia being around you._

"Is that your way of telling me to leave?"

Tara spun around to glare at him. "Is that dumb ass question your way of telling me you don't _want_ to? If you got something you want to say to me than say it. Otherwise I have better shit to do then sit around and let you toy with me."

_I've got fuckin blue balls that says _you're _toying with _me_._

"Make sure you come check out my mom's chili," Jax suggested standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Knowles."

He walked towards her front door, closing it behind him before he could do something stupid like tell Tara how he really felt about her.

* * *

**NEXT CHAPTER:**

**It starts on an early Saturday afternoon.**

**And Sarah's party is the **same** Saturday just later on in the night.**

**I **would** tell you the [Charming Annual Fundraiser ] is Chapter **25 **and Sarah Hale's party is Chapter **26

_BUT!_

**there's a lot of drama going on at the Charming Fundraiser so I might end up breaking it down into |2|, _maybe _|3| chapters before I upload the chapter for Sarah's party.**

**Just a quick heads up on the Drama-studded guest (**read: _cast_**) list for this year's Annual Fundraiser:**

- **_Gemma Teller_**

- **_John Teller_**

- SAMCRO (background actors who observe the carnage but don't weigh in LOL)

- **_Kyle Hobart_**

- **_Donna Lewis_**

- **_Opie Winston_**

- **_The "Councilmen" who slept with Sarah _****and _paid off Tara_**

- **_Jackson Teller (DUH)_**

- **_Sarah Hale (DOUBLE DUH)_**

- **_David Hale_**

- **_Maize O'Keefe_**

- **_Wendy Case_**

I want you all to ponder this. Everyone in **bold** (which basically means _EVERYONE_) has something going between the POV's of the _Prince_ of Bikers and his ever-stubborn _Un-charming_ brunette.

**Fists** will fly, **Accusations **will be thrown, everyone on that list is a **target **for someone else's **rage **or **jealousy….or **_both._

I'm headed off for my cruise in two days. I may or may not **_finish_** and post **25**-27/29 before I go.

**X**oX**o**


	25. Chapter 25

**Apologies **for the delay. Family stuff =/

I did enjoy my vacation though. And a big thank you to all of those who wished me a good one!

BTW just a little FYI..whenever I've said that I have new chapter(s) but i **don't** post it right away I don't mean fully-written to post chapters [big hugs to: _Guest **Amber**_broaching the subject]. I wouldn't just make you guys wait lol. That's rude and cruel all wrapped into one. I meant I had a lot of scenes/dialogue written out and I had the basic plot but I just needed to either flesh it out or see how to connect the different scenes together so that it flows (which is the hardest part).

Any-whoo

**I'M BA-AAACK! **

**Hopefully College work, my MS & just life in general doesn't get the best of me and I'll be able to be update at least once a week or every other weekend. A lot of stuff going on between work & other stuff ya know?**

New comers && Lurkers, be sure to hit the **|FOLLOW|** button pronto.

As for **all **readers (yes, even you _lovely_ "Guests"). Make sure you **|REVIEW**| each chapter please. I'll admit _lately_ I've been contemplating uploading one chapter at a time with some days in between because when I bulk upload some chapters get passed over for reviewing. the feedback really does make a difference.

Hope you guys enjoy, as always.

**P.S**: Sarah Hale's exit is fast approaching. I'll be wrapping up her Arc soon so we can focus more on the Prince & his Uncharming Brunette.

**P.S.S**: can those of you that are reviewing as [Guest], sign with your name or a pen name if you want so I can reply to your comments even if it's just to say thank you for a particularly awesome one?

_Drama, drama, drama. Teenagers, man._

- **Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Charming's annual fundraiser was in full swing.

And it was clearly the place everyone in town wanted to spend their afternoon. Tara could close her eyes, throw a rock and it would land on someone she'd either met before or knew of. But it was a good thing Tara didn't have any actual rocks to throw at the moment.

Then again, she was pretty sure she could still do some damage with one of the many fruits she was supposed to be stacking at the booth for Monroe Market.

The public display playing out across the lot wasn't surprising to her at all. Tara wasn't seeing him through new eyes, not by a longshot. But it was times like these that reminded her that every girl she couldn't stand or that couldn't stand her somehow always ended up in Jackson Teller's lap.

Tara had spent some time in that very position two nights ago. And based on the mere sampling she'd gotten she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't get the allure. Yet she couldn't stop herself from shaking her head at them. It really was disgusting the way they all fawned over him.

Jax's legs were spread wide as he leaned back against the bench directly across from his mother's booth. Ima sat on one leg, some other dark-haired girl Tara recognized from P.E on the other one. Jax smiled up at the camera Ima had extended in front of them as both girls pressed their lips to his cheeks.

Wendy walked up from behind them, leaning down to kiss his neck. Jax turned his head slightly, and the Lady Killer smile was on full blast as his favorite Blonde began rubbing his shoulders. In a matter of seconds Tara noticed she wasn't the only annoyed one. Ima glared up at her "friend" Wendy like she wanted to choke her. When Wendy abandoned the massage against his shoulders, she slid her hands down on either side of his chest, whispering something in his ear. Jax bit his lip, chuckling at whatever she was saying to him.

Tara had barely a second to glimpse Ima's nostrils flaring before Jax's second favorite Blonde made her appearance. Sarah's slow strut came to a halt right in the center of the gap between his thighs, where Tara was sure she felt right at home. Sarah handed Jax the extra ice cream cone in her hand before suggestively taking a lick of the one still in her hand.

Sarah Hale was bringing him frozen dessert.

Ima and her friend—who couldn't seem to keep her paws out of his unruly blonde head—were a part of his photo shoot for Vogue magazine.

And Jax's favorite flavor Wendy Case was now resuming her role as his personal masseuse.

Tara took a quick peek around him. Everywhere her eyes landed, there was a leather kutte and a look of pride or amusement on the face of the SAMCRO member wearing it. She wished she could see the humor in it.

The only thing missing from the scene in front of her were the palm leaves for the girls to fan him with, and a platter of grapes and cheese for them to feed him.

And Tara had an overwhelming desire to launch every fuckin cantaloupe in the basket beside her at all four of them bitches. It wasn't until Wendy looked up and winked at her that Tara finally found the sense to look away.

The view at the other end of the lot wasn't much better.

But at least she could find _some _humor in it.

David was helping Maize O'Keefe carry boxes over to her family's booth. Help, of course meant she walked alongside him, batting her eyelashes while he did all the actual work. When he sat them down on the table, Maize began rubbing his shoulders not unlike Wendy was doing to Jax. Only thing was, David seemed so oblivious that Tara found herself biting back laughter.

_If you're trying to make someone jealous you have to make sure the person you're using is actually paying attention to you, _Tara thought to herself. Of course that just reminded her of who Maize supposedly wanted to make jealous and she found herself sneaking a peek over at Jax again.

Sarah was gone.

And her replacement didn't bring frozen treats. Stacey Wilson, Charming High's cheerleading Captain had another means of being an attention whore. She was unzipping the side of her miniskirt, pulling it down at the front to reveal what was apparently a wad of pink lace _string_. Tara watched in shock as the leader of the Charming High School pom-pom squad pushed her poor excuse for panties aside at the low curve of her hip without the slightest care that she was in public. Whatever she was showing Jax earned her an appreciative grin as he looked up at her.

The skimpy underwear was pink but for some reason all Tara saw was red.

That is, until two familiar faces appeared suddenly in front of her.

"If looks could kill you'd murder all potential customers with that glare on your face," Opie commented. "Who the hell's idea was it to put _you _in a position that requires being nice to people?"

_Bite me_. "Hi, _Harry._"

"Hey, Tara," Donna said quietly. Being timid was so out of character for the tiny teenager that it actually made Tara forget she was angry for the moment.

"Hey, Donna," Tara answered. Then she nodded up at Opie. "I see he's off punishment...or is he just on parole until his next offense?" Tara teased.

Donna managed a small smile. "I'm actually the one on probation this time," she admitted. "I'm sorry about the other night. I kind of flipped out—"

"—it's cool," Tara interrupted. "There's a lot of irrational feelings floating around these days."

_Trust me, you really have no fuckin idea…_

"So I've heard," Donna commented, a wry smile forming on her lips.

_There's the annoying midget I know._

Opie's sudden fit of coughing sounded a lot like laughter.

_And her boyfriend with the big ass mouth._

Tara glared up at the teenage boy standing in front of her. She didn't even have to know exactly what he told her. The fact that he said anything at all was enough. "Asshole."

"I guess you can't really judge me for flipping out about Sarah," Donna continued. "Especially after the way you lost your shit with David the other night. I guess I'm not the only with territory to protect. What are you going to do about Maize O'Keefe?"

"Ummm…" Tara looked to Opie, raising an eyebrow at him but he kept his face neutral as he turned to look at his girlfriend.

"I'm gonna go see if Gemma needs help with…yeah…I'll be right back, baby." Opie leaned down to give her a quick kiss before swaggering off—probably to get the hell out of dodge before Tara's foot was lodged up his ass.

"You should just do what I did," Donna suggested as soon as Opie was out of earshot. "Just punch the bitch in the face a couple of times. It might not stop the insecurity but it'll make you feel a little better."

"What the hell are you talking about Donna?" Tara asked finally.

"You're mad at David because you think something's going on with him _O-Queef_," Donna explained, her eyes widening as if to say _DUH. _"That's why you were flirting with Jax the other night. The whole chopsticks, lady and the tramp bullshit. Ope said you came clean with David about it which I think is really great. When you're in a relationship honesty is…and I just think that….besides the fact..…..you guys are weird by the way. I thought I figured you guys out. I could have sworn you were in love with Jax but then I _also_ thought Ope was still into that Sarah bitch and I…"

Donna's lips were steady moving. And Tara wasn't listening to a word of what she was saying. She was too busy looking over her shoulder. Only this time, it wasn't at Jax. She was staring at Sarah.

Or more specifically, the older man standing next to her. The man old enough to be her father. The man subtly sneaking a glance down Sarah's shirt every so often as she ran a hand up and down his arm as if the flap of the tent whipping in front of them in the light breeze was concealing enough for them to get away with flirting.

A familiar churning made her sick to her stomach even as her eyes narrowed in anger at the audacity of the married father of two standing several feet away from her with the girl who used to tie ribbons in Tara's hair.

"…trust me, Tara. Don't let that fool you. Believe it or not Prince Charming has feelings, too. No matter how big of an ass he is you shouldn't use him to…" Donna paused, finally noticing that the green-eyed brunette wasn't paying her the slightest bit of attention. "What's wrong? Who are you glaring at?" she questioned even as she turned around to see for herself.

Donna turned just in time to see Maize and David walking in their direction, blocking her view of the real reason Tara zoned out.

"He doesn't even look interested in her," Donna said turning back to face Tara. "Trust me. That O'Keefe bitch is no Sarah. You shouldn't worry about it." When Tara's scowl didn't change a tick, Donna sighed. "_Fine. _I owe you one anyway…"

Tara caught on too late. Donna was already turning back around to face them as they walked past the booth.

"HEY, MAIZE!" Donna bellowed, causing quite a few heads to turn, including David and Maize's. "Could you come here for a minute? I need to your opinion on something." Donna turned towards Tara, adding under her breath, "I'd love to know if she brought a cantaloupe or a pineapple to her plastic surgeons office to demonstrate what she wanted her new boobs to look like."

Despite the tension she felt, Tara couldn't help but giggle as Maize approached them.

David was rooted where he stood as Maize left his side, heading towards the booth she stood behind. Tara didn't have time to decipher the question in his eyes because Mrs. O'Keefe, Maize's mother and Charming High's most hated History teacher approached him, pulling him back towards the booth he'd just finished setting up.

"What do you want, Lewis?" Maize asked, folding her arms across the breasts spilling out of her halter top. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"I'm curious…." Donna's smile was every bit as nasty as the red-head's in front of her. "Did it ever occur to you that you might actually have a boyfriend of your own if you would stop trying to fuck everyone else's?"

_Good ole Donna._

"Excuse me?"

"You're the Queen of gossip around here," Donna accused. "So I know you know David's seeing someone…I know you _also_ know who it is…"

Maize giggled, cocking an eyebrow. "All I know is that it's always the one's that pretend to be pure and innocent that do the wildest shit…" Maize pursed her lips. "…sex in the middle of the school parking lot is—"

"—nowhere near as scandalous as being caught with someone's cock in your mouth in front of the whole student body…_and your mother,_" Donna interjected.

Tara opened her mouth to set _the gossip Queen_ straight about what did or didn't happen with her and David in the parking lot at school. That was when she glimpsed Sarah in full on vixen mode. Behind the flap of the tent across the lot, the six-foot tall living proof of Sarah's daddy issue's was facing towards Tara as Sarah's hands trailed dangerously low.

Tara was happy to silently glower at the two of them in disgust until they finally had the sense to disappear to whatever secluded spot would keep Sarah from shaming the Hale name and _him_ out of jail for screwing a minor.

The councilman suddenly looked up and over towards them, his eyes instantly locking with hers. Coincidence? Tara had no way of knowing… at first. Then he winked at her, sending a burst of color flooding into Tara's cheeks as she realized he'd known all along that she'd been watching them. And worse, still, the smug expression on his face told her that for a multitude of reasons that made her nauseous he was enjoying the attention from both of his girls.

The one he'd been sleeping with and the one he'd paid to keep her mouth shut years before.

The two teenagers squaring off in front of Tara were completely oblivious. Once again the green-eyed brunette was out of the circle even when she was the topic.

"You think you're funny, bitch?" Maize snarled.

"I think I know a thing or two about putting _sluts_ in their place," Donna snapped. "If you don't believe me ask your new pep squad BFF Sarah…in the meantime here's an exclusive for your ass. _A black-eye is definitely going to clash with your cheerleading uniform so if I were you I'd watch it_."

"Who the hell are you? The freedom fighter for girls who can't hold their boyfriend's attention?" Maize scoffed. "If I were _you _I'd be more focused on my own relationship. Or is that what this is about? You trying to get on Tara's good side so maybe she'll convince her friend not to steal _your _boyfriend?"

_You don't know what the hell you're talking about_, Tara thought. In some distant part of her mind she knew that now was the time to insert herself into the conversation taking place in front of her. But she couldn't peel her eyes away from him—away from _them_.

He leaned down, whispering something to Sarah as if Tara might actually be able to hear.

"…..she's only been back a week…I'll give you maybe two more before Opie Winston's back to trailing behind her like a lost puppy just like before!"

_No he won't, _Tara wanted to argue.

_Ope loves you, not her_, Tara wanted to tell Donna but Sarah turned around, her eyes widening as they locked with Tara's. The curly-haired blonde had a look on her face that Tara immediately recognized as mock-embarrassment.

"It seems like every time I hear my name come out of a girl's mouth it's always something that pisses you off." Tara almost turned at the sound of Opie's voice.

Almost.

"Hey, Ope," Tara heard Maize say. "Me and your girl were just talking about your _other_ girl…you know the one you loved since elementary school? Sarah H—"

"—Tara?" Opie called out, cutting Maize off.

Tara fully meant to turn around to see why there was a question in Opie's voice when he said her name. But Sarah and her Councilman were finally making their moves.

Sarah walked out first.

He walked out shortly after, his eyes managing to find Tara's again as he pulled at his tie.

"Tara?" Opie's voice was a little clearer as he stood in front of her, blocking her view across the lot. Her eyes were aimed at his chest…until he turned his back to her to follow where her eyes had been before.

"_Is that him_?"

It wasn't what he said. It was the way he said it that had Tara's eyes snapping up to meet his. Opie's eyes flitted back and forth until whatever he read in her expression made his face harden.

_Oh shit._

"Opie!" Tara reached up, grabbing only a handful of thin air because the spot where Opie's shoulder had been seconds before was vacated as he rushed off in the opposite direction.

"Where the hell is he going?"

Donna's question was barely past her lips before the three of them watched Opie's fist connect with Rick Vidal's face.

Donna slapped a hand over her gasping mouth. Tara's folded her hands into a tent at the crown of her head as her chin jutted left to right like a bobble-head doll. Maize shouted, "HOLY SHIT!"

And everyone else at the fundraiser reacted much like Tara would expect.

Sarah backed up out of the way just in time.

Vidal was already tumbling backwards from the force of the blow, but Opie saw fit to help him to the ground as he tackled him, his knees crashing down on the man chest and groin as he leaned over him, steadily pounding his face bloody.

The crowd barely had time to gather before the civilized folk of Charming, California were forced back as SAMCRO made their presence known. Tara watched as Opie's father Piney and Jax's father yanked Opie up off of the man on the ground, bleeding from his nose and mouth. Unser's arms were outstretched in front of him, palms facing the crowd as he and his deputies urged the crowd further back.

Sarah's smile couldn't have been more arrogant as she stood there, hip cocked, her arms folded across her chest as she watched Opie disappear through the slowly dispersing crowd.

Piney dragged Opie along while John Teller helped poor Rick off the ground.

"WAY TO GO, OPE!" Tara heard someone shout. She looked over just in time to see Jax smack Kyle in the back of his head.

"You're a _prospect_, not a cheerleader, moron."

Stacey Wilson stood by his side, giggling as he lazily threw an arm over her shoulders, kissing her cheek as if to put emphasis on the only type of cheerleader he appreciated.

Tara was ready to channel Opie.

Fortunately for Jax and Stacey, her cheer-mate Maize managed to grab her attention before she could fly over and break off a high herkie in Stacey's bony ass.

"So you think I'm the gossip Queen around here, huh Donna," Maize commented, pulling a compact from her purse. Opening it up to reveal a tiny square mirror, she began smearing a fresh coat of lipstick on her mouth to match the heaviness of her eye shadow. "It's actually _true… _I know all the dirt. And a while back there was a pretty interesting rumor going around about _Lauren Vidal_ and how she got her old man to buy her new BMW _annd _let her spend the summer in Europe with her boyfriend…_anddd_…whatever the hell else that girl wants." Maize snorted. "Lauren has her father wrapped around her freshly manicured finger but _I hear _it's about more than her being daddy's little girl…"

"Shut the fuck up, Maize," Tara warned but the nasty smile on Maize O'Keefe's face made it clear that nothing short of Tara lodging a fist in her mouth would stop her from making Opie's love life hell—again.

"….rumor has it she found out her dad was sleeping with one of her classmates…heard he _begged _Lauren not to tell her mom about it…thanks to Opie I no longer have to guess which classmate it was." Maize snapped the compact mirror shut, smacking her lips together with a final pop before tossing it inside her bag. "That was _yeaaars_ ago though." Maize shrugged her shoulders. "I guess he's still not over the fact that his ex-girlfriend two timed him with some old dude…Sarah really gets around doesn't she? And they say _I'm _the school slut." Maize looked over at Tara for the first time since she walked over. "You can relax, Knowles," Maize said, before nodding her head over at Donna. "Call your pit-bull off…David's just a means to an end…for now anyway."

Then Maize sauntered off leaving Tara to try….

"_You ready to give me the 'he doesn't have feelings for her' speech again?"_

…and fail at cleaning up the mess she left behind.

"It's not what you think, Donna," Tara started but Donna was already shaking her head.

"He said _is that him_…then he…what does that mean?" Donna asked. "Did you tell him Sarah was—"

"I didn't tell him _anything_—well not exa—not what you think…Look it's complicated…but it's not about Sarah, okay? He didn't do that for Sarah?"

_At least I hope he didn't. _

"Then what the hell did he do it for? Huh? Whose _him? _Him _what?"_ Tara took too long to answer. Donna was already walking off. "Wait, Donna, listen—"

"—Whatever, Tara. You're full of shit just like him."

* * *

Tara was on the fourth strawberry she wasn't supposed to eating when he approached her.

"Hey, Tara."

It was difficult but somehow she managed not rolling her eyes. "Hi, Kyle."

"I didn't know you worked for the Monroe's."

"I didn't know you cared who I worked for."

"I don't actually."

Tara smiled despite herself. "Then why start the conversation with that?"

"I was just making an observation," Kyle countered, his eyes trailing down her body.

"You do that often?" Tara asked dryly, already looking around for Karen so she could take a break.

And make a break for it.

"Yeah…especially when it comes to you," Kyle answered. "I made another observation, too…I think today is the first time I've seen you in a skirt…."

_Well at least someone noticed._

Tara smiled grimly to herself. Kyle had a point. Over the years she'd developed a more tomboyish sense of style: sneakers and sweatpants. In recent months she'd gradually started back wearing some of her old clothes, but it wasn't until today that she'd opted to wear an actual skirt.

She refused to attribute her sudden desire to switch up her style to either of the guys in her life—especially Jackson. She looked pretty today...for her. It had nothing to do with showing anyone what they were missing.

Not that he had a moment to notice, what with his fan club catering to him.

Kyle was drawling on as if he couldn't tell how bored and distracted the girl standing in front of him was. "...and don't get me wrong I like the shorts you're always wearing but that outfit you have on right now is—"

"—_Karen!_" Tara called out suddenly The redhead about to walk pass looked over at her, the smile her boyfriend Elliot had coaxed out of her drooping the second she saw her. "It's time for my break."

"…perfect I guess I came just in time," Kyle commented.

"Go ahead," Karen said, waving her off as she turned back to continue her conversation. Elliot Oswald managed to wink at Tara before his girlfriend turned back around.

"Hey, slow down!" Kyle shouted at her back.

Tara did the opposite. She'd glimpsed Opie and a short raven-haired girl that looked a lot like Donna arguing in the parking lot across the way. She had to help her friend out…even if part of her did think his reaction was at least partially because of Sarah.

It didn't hurt that defending him meant avoiding Kyle Hobart's sleazy advances toward her.

"Tara," Kyle said, grabbing a hold of her arm. Tara reluctantly pivoted around to face him, unaware of whose booth she'd just stopped in front of.

"_Yes, _Kyle?" Tara hoped he would spit whatever line he had out so she could shoot him down quick and easy and go on about her business.

"You should come with me to the party at the clubhouse tomorrow night," Kyle suggested, a little thrown off now that she'd pinned him with her emerald gaze.

_I guess you can't all be as smooth as Prince Charming, _Tara thought. _Thank God for that._

"Sorry, Kyle." Tara shook her head. "I'm not really up for an Outlaw rager and besides I'm not even sixteen yet. That's more of a twenty-one and older crowd ya know?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, shrugging his beach-tanned shoulders. "Oh please. So what? It's not like you'll be the first minor in Club Reaper. Jax is always sneaking girls in there. Your friend Sarah is always around."

Tara chose to ignore how irritated his words made her, pushing the emotion aside.

Apparently she was doing a very shitty job.

"You think too much, doll face." Kyle clearly didn't pick up on the way Tara cringed at his words. He brushed her cheek with his hand. "You should learn to chill out...Sarah's right. You could use a little—"

Tara held up her hand. "—you talked to Sarah about me?" Tara blurted, Olive eyes blazing. _I can't believe this bitch is trying to pimp out her own brother's girlfriend...or former girlfriend. _Tara didn't know which one she was at the moment. Not that it mattered. "What are you like thirty? What's with SAMCRO and their obsession with underage girls?"

_"Oi! Careful, love!"_

"I'm nineteen, Darlin," Kyle responded, almost drowning out the thick Scottish accent of the man who may or may not have been addressing her.

_Ughh. _"And the word _Darlin._"

Kyle shrugged. "You got another pet name you prefer?"

"I'd prefer we put an end to this conversation before you make me lose my temper," Tara said turning to walk away.

Tara heard Kyle snap his fingers. "_That's right_! I keep forgetting…you're all about Prince Charming…man, I really need to figure out what Jax's secret is. Even the town drunk's daughter is ready to get on her knees for him…._only _him apparently."

Tara spun around so fast her hair whipped her in the face. "What'd you just say to me?"

Kyle smirked, shaking his head. "Every girl wants to be SAMCRO royalty...the young _Princess_ to Mr. Prince Charming. But _you? _You don't even have what it takes to be an Old Lady…and Jax doesn't want you around for anything more than a good time anyway so the jokes on you…_Darlin_."

"If you think I'm even remotely interested in being another trophy on a shelf in that _shitty_ bar you assholes call a clubhouse you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. SAMCRO is nothing but a bunch of redneck, half-wit thugs on motorcycles. And right now you're their personal bitch boy. How's that for a joke?"

_"Jesus Christ."_

Jax's voice rang out behind her. It was low, a snake-like hiss that seemed almost amplified given the brief moment of silence that followed her statement.

"_You wanna run that by us again, you little gash?_" Gemma growled. Tara's head snapped over towards the booth and row of tables that the SAMCRO matriarch stood behind.

Us.

She'd said us.

Tara took a quick look around.

Yup.

_Us,_ was definitely correct.

She'd just dissed SAMCRO….in front of all of SAMCRO.

All except the SAMCRO President himself.

And worst of all—for Opie, _and_ a certain on again off again friend of hers—she couldn't bring herself to give a single fuck about it.

Anger—a steadily increasing rage about a combination of things wouldn't let her.

Tara folded her arms across her chest. Rolling back on her heel, she cocked an eyebrow. "Sure thing, _Gem. _Which part of what I said confused you?"

"Tara," Jax said behind her. Tara didn't bother turning around to face him. Her eyes were on his mother who was already walking around the table, towards her.

"I'm done giving you chances," Gemma said, sliding the rings off her finger as she approached her. "Let's see if I can beat that stick out of your ass!"

"Gemma, she's just a kid!" Piney slid in between them. "Just let it go!"

Tara craned her neck so she could see past Piney. "Why are you so determined to get the stick out of my ass? So I can make room for biker cock like you?"

"Get the fuck out of my way, Piney!"

"Let her go, Piney. That little cunt is asking for it!" Some guy said in the crowd. Once again Tara was too locked in on the enraged woman in front of her to turn and put a face to yet another SAMCRO voice.

"I've been curious about something," Tara continued. "Is it true you _Old Ladies _let your men sleep around? Does what happen on a run really stay on a run? If so I guess that's why Jax doesn't get to see his dad much these days. He's always on a run from _you_."

"_Motherf_—Tara, what the hell?!" Jax turned her around.

Or he tried to rather. The second he touched her shoulder she shoved his hand off, took a moment to glare at him and spun right back around.

She took another heated glance around at all the leather-clad bikers and "Old Lady's" staring at her, some in shock, some different degrees of angry or annoyed. Her eyes finally landed on a shell-shocked, Kyle Hobart.

It was her turn to smirk now. "Do you want to know what _I _think, Kyle? I think you're not the only one that wishes I was old enough to be a croweater." Her eyes darted over to Gemma. She looked the woman up and down before adding, "That's a fair statement right, Gem? Your SAMCRO boys are a big fan of pussy…and I'm sure they'd appreciate one that didn't have as much mileage as yours probably does."

"_FUCK._"

The curse flew from Jax's mouth. But it wasn't nearly as fast as his mother when she abruptly shoved Piney aside and lunged at Tara, grabbing a fistful of her shirt with one hand, Tara's neck with the other.

"I'll teach you to run your fuckin mouth!" Gemma spat through her teeth.

"yeah, that's right, Gemma. Get her ass!" said a female voice in the crowd of SAMCRO members, Old ladies and Club hopefuls.

Jax stood there, frozen.

Everyone except Piney just stood there along with him and watched, no one daring to intervene in the Queen of SAMCRO's Outlaw justice.

"Gem, let her"—Piney started to yell, reaching for her.

"GEMMA!"

Once again, Piney was shoved sideways as Jax's father suddenly appeared.

"LET HER GO!" John Teller demanded even as he pulled her hands off of her. Tara dropped to the ground immediately, coughing as she held her own hand to her throbbing neck.

"That little bitch needs to learn some respect!" Gemma screamed.

Every direction Gemma maneuvered to try to get around JT, he was two steps ahead of her even as he tried to get her to see reason by yelling at her. "She's a teenager for Christ's sake! She's doing what teenagers do. Let her go! ...Damn it, Gemma. Walk away…just let her go."

Tara rose to her feet, finding her voice once more. Even raspy, the venom in it was unmistakable. "You better do what he says, Gemma. The whole town's here as a witness this time. I wonder if your husband can threaten all of them into silence."

Tara turned away before Gemma could bite back a response or lunge for her again. Walking off, she headed towards the back entrance to the High school, rushing past the gym into the locker room to take a look in the mirror at the damage her smart mouth and short temper had earned her this time around.

She didn't notice that Jax had followed her inside until she saw him through the mirror leaning against the end of the row of lockers behind her.


	26. Chapter 26

Love you,** |HATE|** you, hate that I love you, **|ANGSTY|**-Lovey-|**LUSTY|**-make-a-me-crazy rollercoaster ride….

Did I not avow to this ^^? I did? Oh OK, just checking.

Ladies & Gent's I present to you: _Charming Fundraiser: the Jackson Teller edition_…..**PART ONE **

[PART TWO] is Chapter **27** which is also in Jax's POV.

******I have my **fingers crossed** that you guys'll like what I've done with the storyline leading in to the later chapters which I've officially donned **|"_After JT_"| **

Don't forget to **|REVIEW| **&&** |FOLLOW|**

- **_Veritable_** Old **Lady** _Crow_

* * *

"_Do you not hear me talking to you?_"

The answer to Gemma Teller's question was simple.

No.

Her son wasn't paying her any attention at all. Jax was too preoccupied with the brunette pulling boxes out of the _Monroe Market_ van parked in the last row on the other side of the parking lot. Jax was enjoying the view as Tara leaned into the back of the of it, reaching for the last of the boxes. She was wearing a black kilted skirt that stopped in the middle of her thighs. The straps of her sandals were laced around her long legs, stopping mid-calve. The off the shoulder top she was wearing may as well have been a crop-top; it was two sizes to small, already stopping just under her navel and that's when she wasn't reaching or leaning over. Obviously someone wasn't ready to let go of some of the clothes she'd grown out of. And he couldn't be mad at that at all. Shit, he wouldn't mind if every clothing store within driving distance banned her from buying new ones.

Jax shook his head, smirking to himself. Of course she would show up looking like that the day after basically telling him to go play in traffic.

"Ow! What the hell?" Jax turned to glare at the pint-sized teenage girl standing next to him. Opie stood next to Donna, snickering as she raised an eyebrow at him in a silent challenge for him to flip out at being smacked in the head with the magazine in her hand.

"Your mother is talking to you," Donna commented, flipping to the next page in the gossip mag. "Stop drooling and listen…before you end up screwing everything up."

"These two," Gemma said, waving a hand between Opie and Jax, "are useless for anything that doesn't involve heavy lifting. I bet you're used to this kind of thing with all the fundraisers and volunteering you and your folks do at your church. Why don't you help me set up, sweetheart?"

Donna beamed. "I'd love to, Mrs. Teller."

Gemma tossed an arm over her shoulder, and they began walking towards the lot where the booths were being set up. "It's Gemma, sweetheart. Or _Gem_."

As soon as they walked off, Jax went back to the view he'd been enjoying as if his best friend wasn't standing next to him. This time around he had a different reason for the smile spreading across his face.

Some redhead that was probably the manager Tara always bitched about was standing at the side of the van in front of one of the van's open back doors, scribbling something down on a clipboard. Her mouth was steady moving, and Jax didn't have a clue what she was saying but whatever it was, she was clearly annoying the hell out of the green-eyed brunette standing on the other side of the door with her back facing her.

Tara looked like she wanted to drop the box in her hand on top of the young woman's head. She didn't look nearly as angry as she'd been when she'd kicked him out of her house the night before but he knew that look in her eyes. It was the look a rhinoceros might give right before it speared you with the horn on top of its head.

"_Here_," Opie said. Jax looked over to see him holding out a napkin. When Jax scrunched his eyebrows together, Opie laughed, shaking his head. "It's for the drool."

Jax flipped his middle finger up at him but Opie missed it as he leaned over stacking one box on top of another. Reaching for a third he repeated the same motion, slamming the back of the truck shut with a loud snap. Lifting the three boxes in his hand, he slid a large blue plastic bag up his forearm, then he nodded his head over towards Tara. "I got this….you should go help her out. I doubt the future Mrs. Oswald is going to lift a finger…she might break a nail."

"You're going to bust your ass carrying all of that," Jax joked. "And when you drop Gemma's shit she's gonna be pissed."

"Stop making excuses and go talk to her," Opie shot back, walking off. "I'm sick of you two. You're giving me whiplash."

Jax shouted at his back, "This coming from the guy that breaks up with his crazy ass girlfriend every two hours!"

"I'm telling her you called her crazy!" Opie tossed over his shoulder, still walking off.

Jax stood there for a moment, considering if it was worth it to take another trip into the lion's den. When the redhead strutted off, he'd finally made up his mind to approach her. He was already headed in her direction when the guy he recognized as her lab partner in science and a younger guy with a striking resemblance to him stopped at the back of the van just as she slammed the backdoors shut. Whatever he said to her made her smile, shake her head, giggling. They had a very brief conversation, what appeared to be an easygoing dialogue that immediately remedied the bad mood her boss had left her in. Jax looked on in annoyance as Geek-boy lifted two boxes and a large brown paper bag into his bony ass arms and walked off towards the lot with her, his younger brother trailing behind with his eyes glued to the videogame in his hand.

* * *

"So how long do I have?" Donna asked the question so quietly Jax almost didn't catch it over the blend of voices. Gemma Teller was infamous for more than just the club her husband founded. Her chili was legendary, hell, her cooking in general. And everyone in town, it seemed, wanted a bowl…or three.

"How long do you have for what?" Jax added as he looked over, towards his mother's booth as if staring would somehow will Gemma to bring him a bowl so he didn't have to get up off the bench he was sitting on.

"How long before you convince Opie he's better off."

Jax fought the urge to groan even as he rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Donna. Why do you have to make everything so damn dramatic?"

"Can you answer the question?"

Jax sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I told him to break up with you two weeks into your relationship."

"You did _what?_" Donna shrieked.

Jax held up a hand. Before she could speak again he used the same hand to mime the zipping of his lips. "You wanted me to answer your question. I'm answering so shut up."

Donna narrowed her eyes but didn't say a word so he continued.

"Opie's my brother. You weren't even around a whole month and next thing I know I'm cutting class solo with no one to smoke up with…I'm not saying that's a bad thing…but…._ah, fuck this!_ I'm not about to have a heart to heart with you, Tinkerbelle. All you need to know is two things. One, Opie doesn't give a shit what I say or what anyone else says because he loves you. He does whatever the hell he wants just like I do. We still have that in common at least."

"And…two?" Donna prompted when Jax didn't answer right away. She turned to see who he was smiling at behind her, rolling her eyes when she saw it was Ima and yet another member of his fan club sashaying over towards them—well, him.

"Hey, Jax," the girls said in unison, giggling when they realized they'd done it.

"Ladies." Jax jutted his chin up towards them, lips slanted into his signature cocky grin. Each girl sat on either of his legs, Jax spreading them wide to give them plenty of room in his lap.

"Jax?" Donna said. Jax leaned back to look over at Donna over Ima's bare shoulder.

"Yeah?"

Donna sighed, rising to her feet. "What was the second thing?" she repeated.

"I'm on your side," he said solemnly, before scowling up at her. "Even though you're the biggest pain in my ass!"

Donna smirked. "Jerk."

Then Donna spotted Opie headed towards Tara's booth. Shaking her head at the three—yes, three—attention whores on the bench beside her, she walked off to join her boyfriend in his daily routine of annoying the hell of his next door neighbor.

Jax looked up at the camera above his head, his mouth spread into a lopsided grin as the camera flashed. He felt someone lean down, kissing his neck. He didn't even have to turn all the way around. Her perfumed gave her away but the laughter in her voice and the comment she made the second she walked up had him tilting his head back to look at her.

"You're going to get Ima and Natalie killed…me, too if I'm not careful."

Instead of responding his eyebrows rose towards his scalp as he beckoned with his eyes for her to elaborate.

Wendy leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Your little girlfriend is watching you…keep it up and Tara's going to storm over here and that cantaloupe on the table in front of her won't be the only thing getting sliced and diced….unless that's what you want? ….I haven't seen you in a few days…maybe with all the time you've been spending at the Clubhouse, that _Tig_ guy is wearing off on you…." Wendy kissed the spot behind his ear, before tugging at his earlobe with her teeth. "You like a little pain with your—"

"Jax." Jax and Wendy both looked up at the sound of Sarah's voice. Well Wendy looked up at her. Jax was pretty much looking through her. He had Tara right in his peripheral vision, and he had to fight the urge to look straight at her.

Wendy was right. She was definitely watching him and much to his enjoyment, she looked pissed.

"Where did you sneak off to last night?" Sarah asked him.

"I went to Opie's," Jax lied. He'd actually gone home for a change. Granted, he snuck through his window so that he wouldn't have to deal with either of his parents but still, he'd needed a night in his own bed…without company. He didn't know why she even bothered pretending she was hurt. When he'd snuck back into grab his hoodie Sarah looked right at home on the barstool leaning over the counter, talking with Kyle.

"Here, I got you one," Sarah said, handing him an ice cream cone.

"Thanks, Darlin," he said, not even looking at her. Even at a distance he could make out redness creeping into Tara's cheeks as she looked over towards the other side of the lot. Just that quick he'd missed whatever had embarrassed her. Although Wendy's light chuckle behind him gave him an idea of what may have just happened.

"Are you coming to my party tonight?" Sarah asked.

"I doubt it," Jax responded. "I'm not really in the mood to hang out with Douche bag and Douche bag Junior."

"Me either, honestly," Sarah pressed on. "My brothers are lame…I figured we could knock back a few shots, steal Jake's stash and go hang out somewhere just us….like old times ya know?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Jax agreed. He didn't have shit else to do tonight as far as he knew.

He was still looking across the lot. Tara looked very amused about something. He followed her eyes to where David Hale and Maize were standing. Jax wondered if she was thinking about their conversation two nights ago about Maize trying to make him jealous…among other things.

"…when I'm finished just come find me…or I'll find you….Jax?"

Jax nodded his head absently at whatever Sarah was saying.

Tara's eyes suddenly flitted over his direction. His own eyes widened in surprise until he realized she wasn't looking at him at all. She was glaring at Sarah in front of him. He looked up and that's when he realized Sarah had walked off. Standing in front of him was Stacey Wilson.

Stacey was the girl responsible for the Teller's longstanding absence at the local Catholic Church. His mother was banned for slapping the pastor's wife during a nasty argument about Jackson's repulsive behavior during Sunday school when he was twelve. She'd caught Stacey with "_her hands in Jackson's shorts!_", an act that she seemed to blame solely on the future Outlaw's charm and the _"lack of morals displayed at home."_

Tara had gotten banned, too funny enough. Apparently she was supposed to be the lookout but she'd gotten all wrapped up in some book she was reading and didn't realize Mrs. Kent had walked pass until it was too late. Stacey called herself flipping out on Tara for getting her into trouble. A couple heated words exchanged later and Jax and Opie got to spend their last day of Sunday school watching Tara shove Stacey's face into the potted plant on Mrs. Kent desk.

Jax laughed out loud as he recalled Tara's sarcastic remark when Mrs. Kent yelled that she should be ashamed of her behavior.

_"She started it," _Tara had answered, shrugging. "_And besides…God made dirt and dirt don't hurt right? A little soil's not gonna kill her. She'll live._"

"Hey, Jackson," Stacey purred.

"It's _Jax_, Darlin'." Behind him Wendy snorted. When Stacey stood there, smiling at him mischievously, Jax nodded his head up at her. "What you need?"

Stacey giggled. "I just got this new tattoo…it was a total dare! Emily didn't think I would do it! I wanted to know what you thought of it."

"Let's see it, then," Jax encouraged. When she moved to pull the zipper down on the side of her skirt he chuckled.

_Oh, boy._

Stacey slid the hem of her panties aside, pulling down the bandage stuck to her hip to reveal her new ink.

"A butterfly? How original," Ima snarked. Her friend, whose name he couldn't remember was snickering at the bitchy comment.

"I like butterflies," Jax admitted, forcing himself to focus on the literal one in front of him instead of the metaphorical butterfly in his peripheral vision. If he said he wasn't enjoying the prospect of irritating the hell out of her with the harem of hot girls fawning over him he'd be full of shit.

But the anger in her expression now wasn't the same as before. She looked disgusted. And from the angle he was sitting he couldn't see who she was staring at in the tented booth directly across from hers. Whatever or whoever it was had definitely stolen his thunder. She'd forgotten Jax completely. He was itching to find out why.

And somehow he doubted it had anything to do with the heated conversation Maize and Donna were having in front of her. Opie walked over, momentarily blocking his view. When Opie moved further down, standing directly in front of her, Jax found himself craning his neck as if that would actually help him to hear the words Opie said that made Tara's eyes finally shoot up towards him. Jax didn't have long to try to decipher what the latest top-secret exchange between them was because the second Tara's eyes widened he watched his best friend storm off across to the opposite side of the lot. He noticed Sarah first. Her grey eyes were as wide as Tara's.

And that was when Opie threw the first punch.

Jax didn't even see the guys face good. A crowd was gathering and all he knew was some guy standing suspiciously close to Sarah was getting his ass whipped.

Ima and the girl whose name he'd already forgotten were smart enough to jump off of him, Stacey falling in step with him as he rushed over towards them. All of SAMCRO was there at Gemma's behest so he already knew he wouldn't have to actually lift a finger. He just wanted to get a good look at the guy getting his face pounded. The secrets between his best friend and the girl next door to him were steadily piling. Still, part of Jax wondered if this one had something to do with the grey-eyed blonde with a self-satisfied grin on her face as Opie beat a man to a bloody pulp at her feet. A man Jax was sure she'd been alone in the tent Tara was glaring a hole into just moments before.

_Just when you're starting to get a handle on Donna's crazy you pull this shit._

It was over pretty quick.

Piney dragged Opie off towards the parking lot while Jax watched his father picking the poor sucker off the ground.

"WAY TO GO OPE!"

Jax scowled at the sudden appearance of Kyle Hobart. He slapped him in the back of the head, daring him to react when he turned to glare.

Stacey giggled beside him at his joke about Kyle being a cheerleader. That was when he remembered Kyle had dated Stacey back when he was in High school. Stacey was two years behind him, graduating this year. Judging by the bitterness in his expression he was flashing back to that night two years ago when Stacey—his prom date—ditched him to get high with two very charming HS freshman. Stacey was Jax's _first_ in more ways than one. She'd checked off every box except the one that entailed feelings.

Rumors aside, Opie was the only one who knew about his history with her.

Or at least he thought so.

Kyle seemed privy with the way he was glowering at her. And just a few paces behind him, Tara's glare was drilling a hole in the side of her head that made him wonder if Opie had told her something he shouldn't have.

Jax didn't know which one of them he was aiming to piss off more when he wrapped an arm around Stacey, kissing her cheek. But it had the desired effect on both parties.

Kyle and Tara.

He'd only wished he had a little longer to enjoy it before Donna shoved her way past them, causing Stacey to lose her balance, accidentally stomping a ring of dirt from the bottoms of her sandals on the tops of what used to be crisp white sneakers.

"Damn it."

"Sorry, Jax."

"It's all good, Darlin," he answered as he crouched down to try to dust off the stains. Behind him he could have sworn he heard a familiar giggle.

* * *

If Kyle was looking for a way to get back at Jax for Stacey Wilson, going after Tara Knowles was definitely the way to do it.

Of course if he'd taken the time to glance in the young biker prince's direction he might have realized that Tara was also the way to guarantee he didn't live long enough to earn his top rocker.

Jax was already actively trying not to be jealous…of a fuckin strawberry. He'd finally managed to look away from the show Tara didn't even know she was putting on for him when she saw Kyle walking over towards her.

Tara's nose had that pinched look she always got when she was trying not to roll her eyes at someone. That was enough to quiet the voice in his head telling him that it might be a good idea to intervene.

He should have listened to the voice.

He really should have.

Kyle was as predictable as ever. Jax knew he loved to throw around the fact that he was prospecting for the SONS. He always used the fact that he was months away from earning his patch to get girls. He was seriously barking up the wrong tree using that with Tara, though. That approach wouldn't help him at all.

_I guess I'll just let him hang himself,_ Jax thought smirking. It was about time someone else got a healthy dose of Tara-rage.

As he looked on, Jax was disappointed when Tara began walking away from Kyle without so much as a scowl. Kyle Hobart was possibly the only guy in the town of Charming that could steal David Hale's title as Honorary Douchebag. How is it she could be cordial with him but all _he_ ever got was her short-temper and mixed signals?

"Hey, slow down!" He heard Kyle shout at her back. When Kyle wrapped a hand around her forearm, Tara stopped in between the bench where Jax sat and his mother's booth. All around her was SAMCRO.

She was the one in the lion's den this time around and she didn't seem to notice at the moment.

She didn't even notice that Jax wasn't even a full three feet away from her—or she was doing one hell of a job pretending she didn't.

When Tara said, "Yes, Kyle?" in her I'm-trying-really-fuckin-hard-not-to-smite-you tone of voice, Jax barely resisted the urge to rub his palms together in anticipation.

One.

Kyle only had to say one thing she didn't like and he was in for a treat.

Jax could hardly contain himself waiting for the fireworks. He was on the edge of his seat when Kyle mentioned Sarah.

But then he heard her say SAMCRO—then he saw all eyes surrounding her flit towards where she was standing.

Jax realized too late what a very bad idea it was to let Kyle get under her skin. Tara's snarky remark had earned her a response from one of his father's patch brother's, Chibs. He definitely didn't miss the fact that his mother had put down the ladle in her hand to press both palms into her hips.

When he saw Tara turning to walk away, Jax silently praised the God Stacey had a "hand" in him shaming that Sunday in church years ago because he'd thought for sure shit was about to get ugly.

Then Kyle made the mistake of opening his mouth again.

_"Every girl wants to be SAMCRO royalty," _the idiot taunted_. "...the young Princess to Mr. Prince Charming. But you? You don't even have what it takes to be an Old Lady…and Jax doesn't want you around for anything more than a good time anyway so the jokes on you…Darlin."_

Jax rose up from the bench, hands already twitching as he swiftly closed the gap between them. Kyle was about to be the Mr. Suit & tie to his Opie.

"_If you think I'm even remotely interested in being another trophy on a shelf in that shitty bar you assholes call a clubhouse you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. SAMCRO is nothing but a bunch of redneck thugs on motorcycles. And right now you're their personal bitch boy. How's that for a joke?"_

All Jax could do with his twitching hands then was palm his face with them, muttering a understated, "Jesus Christ," as the fireworks began.

"You wanna run that by us again, you little gash?" His mother's voice rang out.

The fourth of July had come early this year. And it wasn't the party he'd been hoping for.

Not by a fuckin longshot.

* * *

Tara never shied away from saying how she felt about the club. And even though it annoyed Jax, even though he wished she would stop prejudging everything about the club he couldn't wait to be a part of, he never faulted her for being real with him.

_"…which part of what I said confused you?"_

But now was the wrong time and place for her to speak her mind. He had to get a handle on the fire Kyle had started before the whole forest went up in smoke.

"Tara," he called after her. She either ignored him or didn't hear him at all.

His mother was advancing on her. Gemma's hands were doing that twitching thing his had been doing before as she pulled the rings from her hands, shoving them down in the back pocket of her tight black jeans.

Tara was seconds away from a world of hurt and he didn't see how he could stop it without offending his family.

Jax stood there, rooted to the spot on the field behind her in stunned silence. He was conflicted. His body was taut, every muscle wired but unmoving as he struggled to pick a role in the disaster playing out in front of him.

Even if he didn't think he could take him, part of Jax wanted to rush the bald-headed patch standing next to Chibs for calling Tara a cunt.

Even though he knew it would put him at odds with his own mother and all the men in leather kuttes around him, part of Jax wanted to dive in front of Tara, pick her up and take off with her before anyone could hurt her.

But most conflicting of all was that last part of him.

Tiny as it was, he couldn't deny it. There was a part of him that wanted Gemma to put Tara in her place.

He resented her constant disrespect of his club. Her disdain for his father even though he knew JT had thrown the first stone.

He hated her for putting him in a position where he might have to choose between her and his family. He resented the fact that she made it such a tough choice.

And he hated that she'd once again awoken the voice in his head that told him his mother was one-hundred percent right about the brunette standing in front of him.

The marker slid back and forth along the scale that was Jax's emotions.

Back Piney up.

Support his mother's position.

He didn't know what he wanted.

But when Gemma wrapped her hand around Tara's throat, watching his mother choke the girl he couldn't seem to shake off, Jax knew in an instant what he _didn't _want.

Lucky for Jax, his father wasn't just a silent figure in the corner today. JT rushed forward, diffusing the situation in the mere seconds it took for Jax to take a single step towards them.

Once he got a hold on the mad woman struggling against him, John Teller looked over at Jax, conveying a silent message meant only for his son.

Jax gave his father a curt nod. As far as olive branches go, that was the best Jax could manage for the time being.

He and his father still had a lot of shit to deal with.

And while he may have spared Tara any major backlash for all of her harsh words, he was still a big part of the reason her hate for the club…her mistrust of Jax was so strong. Jax couldn't shake that he was a part of the reason Tara wouldn't let him completely in again.

And of course there was also the whole abandoning his family part that still had Jax …hurt.

Not angry. Hurt.

Now wasn't the time or place to deal with any of that either.

* * *

Tara got the last word in.

She made one final remark, yet another jab at the man that had just saved her from being choked unconscious…or worse. Then she stormed off like she'd done so many times before.

And it was if Jax was connected to her by a chain-link.

Because he ignored his mother's gasp.

And Donna and his best friend Opie's wide-eyed expressions when he spotted them in the back of the crowd.

And all of the disapproving, outraged, disbelieving looks on the familiar faces in the crowd of people around him.

Jax bypassed them all to follow after her.


	27. Chapter 27

JAX's [POV] continued….

**P.S: **Just a quick FYI when I was originally hinting at the Charming Fundraiser (several chapters before the 24th one), the Tara & Jax confrontation was _a lot more_ deserving of the **(M)** rating for this FanFic.

I opted to cut parts out and change the ending of their _union, _ even the dialogue a little bit. I think the raunchy, more _passionate _part of their relationship should come a little later.

I hope I was wise in changing the chapter and saving that very skin-a-max-esque scenario for a later chapter.

Anxious to read your thoughts.

**P.S.S: ** I didn't change Sarah's arc a tick. This was always where her and Jax would end up.

**|FOLLOW| && |REVIEW|**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

"I came in here," Jax said, looking in her eyes through the mirror. His voice was shaky, quaking with barely controlled anger that would put the fear of God in anyone with half a brain. "I actually followed behind you in front of ever—everyone I care—everyone you diss—," Jax raked a shaky hand through his hair, his voice rising just a little higher as he continued. "…and now I don't even know what to say to you. I don't know what I want to say to you first or how I can even say it without yelling loud enough to shatter your fuckin eardrums."

"How about you start with _I'm sorry my mother's a psychopath_?" Tara joked, looking away from his image in the mirror to inspect the purple bruising forming an angry ring around her neck.

Tara spun around, her ass hitting the counter, when Jax kicked a dent into the locker he'd been leaning against.

"_Goddamn it!_" Jax screamed at the ugly row of pea-green lockers. He needed to compose himself before he looked at her again. Or he might end up picking up where his mother left off.

"What was that you were saying about _girls _flying into rages?"

Jax blew out a heavy breath. "Damn it, Tara, nothing about this is funny and you think it's a joke."

"I didn't ask you to come after—"

"_Who the fuck else was going to?" _Jax bellowed, spinning around to face her again. He tilted his head to the side, nostrils flaring as he moved a couple steps closer to her. "Who are you waiting on? Your _boyfriend_, Casper the friendly fuckin ghost?" Slowly, Jax walked in a full circle, making a point to stare in every corner of the room. "I don't see anyone else coming in here to make sure you're okay. Even Opie is staying clear of you after the shit you just pulled!"

Tara turned away, her eyes fixed on the middle of the sink she stood in front of. "You should take a page out of Opie's book then….just leave me alone, Jax."

_Oh, believe me, I want to. _

_I'm getting closer and closer to fuckin doing it, too._

Jax sighed, opting to once again swallow the rage dancing on the surface, making him hot all over.

Through the silence, his footsteps sounded loud even to his own ears when he approached her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing down the urge to shake her like a fuckin Polaroid picture. At his touch, Tara looked up and their eyes met again in the mirror.

When he spoke, his voice was careful, measured. "Just friends? More than friends? It doesn't make a damn bit of difference. If we're going to be anything you have to stop doing this shit every time you get annoyed about something. I understand how you feel…I even get why you feel that way, but you can't just disrespect the club like that. What you did back there was reckless and dangerous. How am I supposed to defend you? You really want me bumping heads with them? This isn't like you and the Hale's…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" _Shit. _Tara turned around to glare at him directly. "You know what, Jax? Don't even answer because I really don't give a shit. And I didn't ask you to defend me to anyone…especially your mother. Maybe if I had you wouldn't have stood there while that crazy bitch tried to choke me to death. Why don't you do me a favor? Take your bullshit chivalry and shove it!"

_To hell with being nice, _Jax thought as he spoke, slowly—through clenched teeth. "I just watched you diss _everyone_ I care about—I stood there frozen like a goddamn scarecrow while you insulted the only family I've ever known, the family that always has my back…the family that's _always_ going to have my back. I just walked out on them _for you. _I'm hurting the people that would never walk away from me even when I say or do things that piss them off! _Stupid shit like running after a girl that doesn't give a shit about anyone but herself!_" Jax flung his arm out, pointing towards the door he'd entered the locker room through. "Those people out there would kill for me…_die for me_ if they had to. That's who you just shit on, Tara. If you were David or anyone else you'd be at St. Thomas right fuckin now, getting your jaw wired shut. And you know what?" Jax used the same hand to jab his thumb into his chest. "I would have been the one that sent you there. Not my mom or anyone else."

Tara shrugged her shoulders at him and if Jax were a snake he would have skipped right over the hissing and got straight to striking.

"Go ahead and hit me, SAMCRO Junior," she challenged, echoing her father's name for him. "I'm sure being a woman beater is probably part of the criteria when your father's interviewing potential prospects for his biker gang."

Jax suddenly raised his hands high above his head. He lacked the focus or concern to be offended when Tara jumped as if she feared he might actually do it.

"You are the most stubborn, miserable, judgmental chick I have ever met in my life. _I fuckin hate you!_"

Tara raised her own hands above her head. Slapping them down against her thighs, she shouted, "Then why won't you leave me the hell alone?"

"_BECAUSE I FUCKIN _WANT_ YOU, TOO!_"

Tara's eyes ballooned and Jax had the satisfaction of seeing her mouth form an O-shape before she quickly clamped it shut. Turning her back to him for umpteenth time, she aimed her eyes down in the sink as she braced her hands against it. "Well I…..I want you to keep your distance. That's what _I _want…."

"I lied to you yesterday," Jax admitted. Tara looked up, into the mirror just as he closed what little space they had left between them. His grin was sharp, predatory when her lips parted, surprise—at his proximity, not his words—shining in her eyes.

Jax's eyes were a steadily darkening indigo, yet somehow it was like the bluest of clear skies—no clouds for his emotions to hide behind.

Jackson Teller was unguarded, an open book. And he wasn't angry with her.

He was furious.

"I lie about a lot of shit," Jax said, leaning down to speak against her ear. "But you're a liar, too and a fuckin hypocrite. All this bullshit you keep talking about mistakes and you keep making the same one over and over again. _I'm not the mistake._"

Jax grabbed a hold of her arm. Unlike Kyle he didn't wait for her to turn on her own. He jerked her around. Gripping her waist with both hands, he moved just a quickly when he lifted her up, sitting her on the counter space between two of the five sinks that lined the left side of the locker room.

Tara gasped, but she made no move to scoot back against the wall. She stayed there, right at the edge. And he took a moment to wallow in triumph at the rapid rise and fall of chest as his hands caressed the tops of her inner-thighs.

"You want _distance_?" He didn't bother to mask the sarcasm in his voice. He even smirked when her eyes narrowed. "You sure as hell don't act like it."

Tara's nails dug into his wrist when she yanked his hands from underneath the fold of her skirt. All he did was slam his palms down on the counter on either side of her hips and lean in closer, lightly brushing his lips against her ear.

"If you want distance why are you always so _pissed_ when you see me with someone else?" His mouth was a ghostly trail along her neck, so close to pressing against her skin he could feel the heat emitted from her against his lips, but with no payoff—for either one of them. "_I'm not the mistake, Tara_," Jax repeated, whispering it against her neck as he slowly drew his head back to meet her eyes. "The mistake is every time you pull away from me when you know you don't want to."

Jax reached a hand up to comb his fingers through her hair, before sliding his hand around to the back of her head. His other hand reached for her chin, cupping it between steady, determined fingers.

He had her right where he wanted her, but as always he'd left himself open to attack in the process. Jax was tired of being the only frustrated one. It was time for Tara to have some frustration of her own. So when he'd advanced toward her, when he'd moved in, invading every bit of space she had he'd done it with one goal in mind.

Jax leaned into her, as close as he could get without kissing her, his hands circling the patch of skin at her waist where her shirt had risen up. The tips of their noses were barely touching as he struggled with driving his point home.

Her eyes were a smoldering emerald, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she waited for his next move. Just thinking about all the things he could do that she'd love, all the things he knew she wanted, the things she begged for with her eyes without the courage to tell or show him—his imagination alone had him straining against the zipper of his jeans.

_Damn it, Tara. _

He'd wanted to get a rise out of her. And instead she'd gotten one out of him…without even trying.

But Jax was done thinking with his dick. That was how she got him every time.

"If you want distance why do we always end up right back where we are now?" he asked quietly. "Why aren't you pulling away from me right now?"

Silence.

His questions were met with silence.

And when she didn't respond, it was fresh kindling for the fire that kept his temper simmering. Just like that, his laser focus was back. "You're waiting for the _Teller Charm _to kick in aren't you, Tara?" he growled. "You're waiting for _me _to show you how I feel…_again…_so you can pull away from me…_again._"

He didn't spare her a second to confirm or deny what he already knew.

Jax pulled away first. The look of disappointment that flashed in her eyes was the spoonful of sugar he needed to help the bitter taste of his own medicine go down. How many times did she have to prove, without effort, that every action he took against her had a ricocheting effect.

He would walk away with the same frustration, the same lack of fulfillment he'd dealt with every time she walked away from him.

But at least this time he'd been the first to leave.

"You don't want distance from me, Tara," Jax accused. "You want as little distance as possible, but you're too afraid to admit it and that's too damn bad. _I'm done being rejected. _There are way too many other girls willing to give me what you won't."

Tara pushed against his chest, backing him up so she could slide down off the counter. She met the arrogance in his smile with a scowl that packed enough heat to sear a steak. "You think you're so fuckin _irresistible _don't you?"

_CHECK. FUCKIN. MATE._

Jax took another page out of Kyle's book. He smirked at the Viper, rearing its deadly head up at him. "If you don't want me, walk away," he challenged, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm done chasing after your stubborn ass, too. You want out? Take off. It's what you do best, Darlin."

"Fuck you, Jax."

_That and sound like a broken fuckin record._

Jax waved a hand towards the exit. "The doors that way, _Darlin._"

"I have asked you not to call me that shit!"

_And channel the spirit of Donna Lewis._

"I don't care what you want…unless you're ready to admit you want me." Tara growled, all but foaming at the mouth. "You're stalling, _Darlin'. _Start moving."

"I'm not going anywhere," Tara shrieked, folding her arms across her chest. "I came in here first. Why don't _you _get the hell out?"

Jax chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Fine, I'll leave." He turned his back to her like she'd done to him so many times before, walking off. "Have fun dating Casper!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Asshole!" she shouted at him.

"Frigid bitch!" he bit back.

That was when the force of something sent him tumbling forward, banging his leg against the bench posted between the two rows of lockers he was walking through. Barely catching his balance as his palms shot out to grip that very same bench, he flipped around, his butt grazing the thick, rusted strip of wood beneath him as he looked up at the force standing at the end of the front of the bench, breathing like she'd just finished pushing one of those football dummies teams used during practice, and with Big Foot on the other end of the padding.

Jax rubbed at the sharp pain in his knee, needing something to do besides go against the oldest rule in the book of life: boys don't hit girls.

His hands may have been busy, but it wasn't completely metaphorical to say the gloves had come off where his mouth was concerned.

"I'm thinking my Old man should have held off for a little while longer….maybe my mom could have actually choked some sense into you."

Tara lunged for him again. And he was ready for her this time.

Jax jumped up, grabbing her by the tops of her arms, he swung her around, shoving her back against the lockers. He pinned her hands above her head so she couldn't strike him, held her legs together like a vice in between his own to hold off the Kung Fu Crouching fuckin Tiger he knew she was itching to let loose on him.

Against his better judgment he found himself leaning in dangerously close her mouth, as he whispered a threat against her lips.

"Keep it up, Tara. One of these days I might slip up and lose my respect for the fairer sex."

Tara caught him by surprise.

That was the only reason she was able to free up one of her hands. One was all she needed to shove hard against his chest until he grunted, stepping back away from her before she ended up adding actual weight to the empty threat he'd made against her.

He didn't say goodbye. He didn't call her out of her name again. He couldn't even muster up another glare to shoot her way. He simply turned his head to resume his exit.

The dry sob that cut through the air was the only thing that gave him pause.

He looked back, the glassiness of her eyes made him want to reach for her.

But angry tears wasn't enough to make him cave and actually do it.

"_Why, Tara?_ Why do insist on being so fuckin miserable?"

Tara nails scraped against the side of his neck as her hands shot out, twisting the collar of his shirt in her hands. A single tear slid from between her bottom lashes.

Jax didn't even get a chance to see it fall.

Tara was already pulling him towards her, crushing her lips against his. His mouth opened against hers as she released the all-white SAMCRO| Tee bunched up in her hands to wrap them around his neck.

It was hunger, desperation and a soul-scorching demand all in one. Tara tilted her head, deepening the kiss as she switched angles left to right and back again. He matched the rhythm of her tongue stroke for stroke as he reached around to cup her ass. In a matter of seconds she managed to drop her hands, sliding them through the tiny gap of space between their chests to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head just before Jax lifted her up, her legs automatically curving around his waist as he pressed her back against the lockers.

Jax moved in closer, pressed his body tight against hers as he balanced the remaining weight of her with one hand, the other crawling its way up to a favorite spot of his. The Vanilla honey scented locks adorning her rapidly shifting head. Fingers tangled in Tara's hair, the groan climbing its way up his throat vibrated against her lips as she rocked forward pressing down hard against him.

He gave her hair a gentle tug as he eased her head to the side for full access to her neck. Jax paused, pulling back to frown at his mother's handiwork. His frown deepening as the harshness of his earlier words echoed in his head.

Then Tara's voice was in his ear. "_Kiss it better._"

Of all the words she could have stolen from him she'd picked the perfect set. And was more than happy to oblige as he dipped his head, pressing a hot, wet trail of kisses from the sweet spot behind her ear, down to the pulse at her throat, sucking on the soft skin there.

Tara's breath was hot and heavy against skin. She was moaning in his ear and it was driving him crazy. Somehow her hands had found their way between them again. And when he felt her grip the buckle of his belt in her hand, Jax recoiled, abruptly setting her down on her own two feet before she did something to make him lose it in an entirely different way.

Jax laced his hands in hers, mostly to keep her busy fingers in line. He leaned in pressing his forehead against hers, nose-to-nose, green eyes locked with blue. Tara tilted her chin just a little to suck his bottom lip into her mouth, grazing it with her teeth as she pulled back resting her forehead against his once more. Jax's eyes were closed as he tried to summon the control he needed to stop him from pushing up her skirt and pulling the thin fabric underneath it down her thighs.

He knew it even if the increasing tightness of his jeans at his groin made him want to throw caution to the wind and take this opening like it was the last chance he'd ever get. And knowing his track record with the girl wrapped up in her arms it very well may have been.

Tara wasn't giving him time to think, the chance to gather up all the willpower he had. She was tugging at his bottom lip again. He didn't even fight it when she shook her wrists loose from his grip.

Jax squeezed his eyes shut just a little bit tighter when she raked her nails down his chest. Her other hand reached for the curve of his jaw, gently nudging his chin up to place an open-mouthed kiss just underneath it, where the trail to his throat began.

Then without warning the hand on his chest dropped, snaking between them. His reaction was delayed, he moved too slowly. Jax's eyes flew open. He drew in a sharp intake of breath as her hands slid down. Stopping at his groin, she cupped him in her hand. Her eyes were glued to his as she slowly stroked him through his jeans, watching his reaction.

Jax couldn't mistake the smile quickly spreading across her face even through the fluttering of his lids as he fought to keep them open. Clearly she'd gotten the reaction she wanted.

Too soon, she stopped.

But then her hands were on his belt buckle again and Jax found himself mentally kick himself in the ass when his fingers curled around her wrists again.

There were two reasons they couldn't go any further.

He couldn't form the words for either reason so he wracked his brain desperately for any way of holding her off without offending her.

All he could manage to say was, "_not now, okay?"_ to which Tara laughed at.

"You only get to use my words against me once," Tara chastised.

It was like she snapped her fingers and his zipper was down.

He knew it didn't happen that way. What had actually happened was a mental stutter. She'd thrown him off course with the look that flashed in her eyes, illuminating the green. Tara reached for him and Jax jumped back, forgetting all about the bench.

The bench that cut him off at his legs, sending him flying backwards. The backs of his knees curved around it. It was like they were back in the cafeteria, only this time Tara was in the driver's seat. She reached a hand out, pulling him up so he was sitting on the bench. His hand immediately flew to zipper, pulling it closed again. When he looked up she was standing over him, dipping her own hands underneath the sides of her skirt. Black as the kilted mini was he'd still managed to zero in on her the hooking of her thumbs underneath it. Convinced he'd officially shredded what was left of his sanity, he found himself stilling her hands, his fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm before she could start the shimmy that was sure to make him lose his resolve.

"Tara," Jax said, his voice strained. He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. He tried to convey the message in his head with his eyes.

_As much as I want you to—and believe me, I REALLY FUCKIN want you to…. if you do _anything_ to me right now I'm going to embarrass myself._

It was either lost in translation or she'd done what she was best at—ignored him. She threw his hands off, and the look of determination in her eyes had his heart lodged somewhere in his throat.

He was done for. He was her puppet. And there was nothing left to do but let her pull his strings.

Jax threw in the towel, giving up on controlling the situation at all.

He was ready. He made it clear when he widened the gap between his legs, his palms facing down against the bench on either side of him.

That was when her face changed. He'd finally stopped fighting her off and just like that her nerves kicked into high gear. The sight of her biting at her bottom was still hot as ever, but he knew it had less to do with her being turned on and more to do with her being nervous.

She wanted…something. It was definitely some version of what he wanted. But she wasn't counting on him not trying to stop her, not trying to take over. Somehow her confidence had diminished the second he'd handed over the reins completely.

It was cute.

Cute in a way that Jax made a mental note to tease her about at some point later on.

"You don't have to show me"—_right now, _Jax added in his head—"…I just wanted to hear you say it, babe…I needed you stop playing hot and cold…"

Jax rolled his eyes at slight pout Tara was struggling to keep off of her face. In the end she'd played right into his hands, and if it was one thing Charming's resident know-it-all hated, it was when someone outsmarted her.

Especially when that someone was Jackson Teller.

"I'm gonna get fired...my manager is probably pulling her hair out right now wondering where I went…"

Jax smiled up at her, his mouth lopsided. "It was worth it though, wasn't it?"

Tara scoffed.

"_Ugh. _I hate to have to bring you and your big ass head back down to Earth but you're not half as charming as you think you are, Jax," Tara said, making him chuckle.

"_Bullshit._" Jax bit back. Reaching for her hands he laced his fingers between hers. Tara squeezed his hands tightly, smirking when his eye twitched at the pressure. "You trying to cut off my circulation?"

Tara smirked. "You scared they're gonna fall off?"

"Messing around with you, they might," Jax countered. "I'm a mechanic, babe. I kind of need them…and I don't think I need to remind you how good I am with my hands."

"_He's got a point, Tee."_

* * *

Tara and Jax's head's snapped over towards the locker room entrance, where Sarah was leaning against the wall, staring down the aisle at them—well, Tara mostly.

Her eyes were on the joining of their hands.

Jax bit back a curse when Tara pulled her hands out of his.

"What do you want, Sarah?" Jax asked the top row of lockers in front of him.

"I've been looking for you," Sarah answered. "We were supposed to meet up remember?"

Jax vaguely remembered a conversation they'd had earlier that may have been to that effect.

"Hey, Tara," Sarah called out. "Are you okay? I heard what happened. I was with Davey picking up my car….is that a bruise?" Sarah walked towards them.

Tara cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

Sarah's smile was pitying at best. And Jax knew she meant for it to have that effect. "I know you are…you had Jax to back you up right? I knew Maize was full of shit when she said he just stood behind you, smirking as it happened. What the hell's gotten into your mother, Jax? She's like Jekyll & Hyde. One minute she's making me oatmeal and the next she choking people your...well, Tara in front of half the town."

Never in his life had Jax ever wanted to hit a female so badly.

As it turned out he didn't even need to.

Tara had finally had enough.

"_Shut the fuck up, Sarah."_

And the force of her words packed a punch of its own.

"Excuse—"

"—You're not excused you duplicitous, _bitch,_" Tara snapped, cutting her Sarah off. "I'm done excusing all the fucked up shit you do...the shit you do to _me. _All the backhanded, passive aggressive comments you make to get under my skin. I'm not excusing you,,anymore. I'm done _making _excuses for you. We're not in elementary school, I'm no longer the knock-kneed girl that hasn't grown into her ears yet. I'm not your shadow and I'm done hanging out in your back pocket. _I'm done with you._"

Once Sarah retained control of her jaw, picking it back up off of the floor, she narrowed her eyes at the girl she'd stopped treating like her best friend a long time ago. "I'm glad you finally grew a backbone, Tara…at least where I'm concerned," she added looking over at Jax. "Any other declarations you want to make?"

"Just one more," Tara sneered. She turned, catching Jax off guard when she gripped either side of her face in his hands, mashing her lips against his, the kiss, the taste of her lips against his immediately sending blood rushing to his groin all over again.

Pulling away, she spun back around to face Sarah. "Jax doesn't want _you…_so you really need to get off his dick."

Sarah's laughter was nasty. "Why? So you can take it for a spin? You wouldn't even know what to do with it."

"If I tell you _mine_ is tighter than yours you're not going to try to choke me are you? I can guarantee you won't be as fortunate as _Gem_."

_Jesus Christ. I din't not need to hear that, _Jax thought to himself.

He was referring to the first part of her statement of course. For some reason he never got around to hearing the question about choking or the comment about his mother.

"Cute," Sarah snarked. "I wonder how my br—"

Jax's eyes widened as he watched Tara slam her ex-best friend into the lockers.

"Keep fuckin with me, Sarah," Tare dared. "I'll match the black eye Donna gave you and throw in a split lip for good measure."

"I see you've got your father's temper….or d_o you?" _Sarah craned her neck around Tara's scowling face. "What do you think Jax? Think she's taking after her old man? I wonder wh—"

"—Let het go, Tara," Jax said, raising his voice over Sarah's as he pulled Tara off of her. "She's not worth it, babe….I'll deal with her. Go see about your manager. I'll catch up with you later….okay?"

Jax felt like tap dancing when Tara nodded.

She mumbled a simple, "Bye," walking away.

Jax turned to glare at the curly-haired blonde in front of him.

He wanted to tap dance, alright. He wanted to tap dance all over Sarah Hale's smugly face.

"What are you gonna do, Jax?" Sarah taunted. "You're gonna straighten me out with your fists? That's the outlaw way isn't it?"

Jax lunged towards her, fists clenched. Sarah ducked unnecessarily. If he'd really wanted to hit her, shrinking down wouldn't have spared her. His fist met its target—the locker right above her head. And it had the desired effect he was aiming for.

Sarah was more rattled than the caved in metal door above her. She flinched when his other hand flew up towards her face. But he didn't crush her jaw between his fingers. His touch was feather-light as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

"I was being nice," Jax whispered. "I was willing to bite the bullet _for her. _I was willing to play along with this twisted fantasy you have in your head where you and me end up together. Now I'm saying _fuck that. _She's done with you so there's no reason to try. The secret you're holding over my head? It's not your truth to tell. We both know I'm not the only one you're gonna piss off if you say anything to her….and if you do….I can promise you, Darlin I'll be more than happy _to stand behind _you _smirking as it happens…_she's going to break your fuckin neck."

Sarah's eyes widened in genuine surprise—and fear. "You wouldn't tell her—"

"—why wouldn't I?" Jax barked at her. "Because I'm not a snitch? There's a difference between me talking to the Feds and me letting the club know you're digging up old history just to amuse yourself….and by the club I mean the woman who _made you oatmeal. _I'm talking about—

"I KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Sarah shrieked at him.

Jax shrugged his shoulders and smiled, his eyeteeth looking sharper than ever. "I'm just making sure you understand, Darlin…with the way you've been acting lately I thought for sure all that _coke _you overdosed on a while back permanently fucked up your brain," he remarked, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans.

Jax flicked his lighter against the tip of the cigarette between his lips. Looking up, he almost dropped the lit cancer-stick from his mouth. The stunned expression on Sarah face had laughter clawing its way up his throat.

"Did you really think I didn't know? Tara reversing her statement ain't the only reason your old man backed off. i don't think he wanted anyone to find out how much his daughter liked her nose candy...or the fact that she got from her older brother. It was real nice of you to let everyone go on thinking I corrupted you somehow…pressured you into the ways of the Irish…more whiskey than you could handle." The only thing missing from Jax's barking laughter was a finger to point in her face as he chuckled. "Ah, man...if you know what's going for you, Sarah…you'll keep that big mouth of yours closed until the next guy tells you to open wide."

Jax backed away, walking past her.

"Look whose balls are the size of Texas all of a sudden," Sarah said to his back. "Tara's lips must be _magic._ One little taste and you're ready to slay dragons for that frigid little bitch."

Jax spun back around, blue eyes darkened like the ocean at sunset. "I know whose lips aren't magic. _Yours. _If they were I wouldn't have said her name instead of yours when you were on your knees for me you stupid whore."

Tears welled up at the corners of Sarah's eyes. Instead of guilt, all he felt was victory.

No more venom. The rattlesnake was harmless.

His triumph was sweet without a trace of bitter to chase it.

"How often did you think about her when you were inside of me?" Sarah choked out. "Was it every time? Even the first? _My _first?"

Jax frowned, shaking his head once. "I didn't know it was your first time. You lied to me like you lied about everything else. I would have never—"

"_never slept with me? _Are you really going to stand there and pretend you're one of the good guys? It wouldn't have mattered. You were happy to screw anything with two sets of lips…anything to keep you from taking advantage of little Orphan Tara. She's the only one you can be a gentleman for, right Jax? It's all about her. It always has been…"

Jax waved her off, turning on his heel. "I'm not doing this."

"….I guess you and the guy you call _douchebag _have a lot more in common than I thought. You're both in love with the town charity case...you and Davey…always competing for the same thing. I never thought he'd actually one up _you. _Not Jackson Teller, the Prince of Charming."

An awful feeling was swarming in the pit of his stomach even as Jax opened his mouth to play the game with her one final time. "What the hell are you hinting at?"

Sarah laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You can't take a _hint _to save your life so I'm not implying anything anymore. I'm telling you outright. The girl you can't stop having wet dreams about is fuckin my brother the _douchebag._ How's that for _truth_? Asshole."

Sarah stormed past him.

But it was the force of her words, not her shoulder slamming into his that knocked him off balance.

David Hale was the mystery boyfriend?

Hell no.

Opie would have told him if it was David.

There was no way.

She couldn't be.

But if she was…

_That explains so fuckin much._

* * *

**_Geeeez._**

**And I thought fleshing the chapters out meant I'd end up with three chapters covering the Fundraiser. You still have two more headed your way...I think.**

**Next up, another healthy dose of Jax-rage… followed up by Tara's final [POV] before the party that, let's face, they're both totally trespassers at….or _are_ they?**

**Til next time...**

**XoxO**


	28. Chapter 28

**Quick A-NOTE**: _Hang in there with me guys. No one's more anxious than **I** am to get to and surpass John Teller's arc in the Fic. That's when all the fun stuff happens_. *Pinky swear*

* * *

The further Tara walked past the adjacent boys and girls locker rooms, into the gymnasium, the more she was beginning to regret leaving Jax and Sarah alone. It wasn't jealousy that had her nerves on the fritz either. It was the million and one possible ways that Jax "handling" Sarah could end badly for her—for them.

Especially since nobody _handled_ Sarah Hale.

That bitch was resilient. Nothing could keep that girl down and when she struck back there was always carnage left for somebody else to clean up. Tara didn't want to be collateral damage.

And that's exactly what she would be if Sarah was granted even a second to finish her sentence.

The sentence Tara had cut short, the very reason she'd shoved the grey-eyed blonde against those ugly green lockers in the first place. Tara had been so excited by the idea of Jax putting Sarah in her place, him telling Sarah once and for all who he _really _cared about that she'd left the girl who could ruin her life alone with the very guy she'd use to do it.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

She had to go back in there before Sarah did what she did best: Stir the pot. Tara had no doubt that her dating David was ammunition Sarah had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to use. What better time than now?

Kissing Jax must have scrambled her brain a bit because she was all the way on the other side of the gym before reaching this delayed epiphany.

Tara spun around, full prepared to hightail it back into the war zone she'd left behind to make sure she didn't end up being a casualty.

"Tara? _Finally. _I saw your dad's car in the parking lot but I couldn't find you anywhere!"

Tara shut her eyes, squeezing them tight, hoping to chase off the dots beginning to dance beneath her lids.

Opie.

She _really_ wished it was Opie's voice she'd heard behind her.

Or Donna. She'd even take the nosey, judgmental, hot tempered midget right about now.

Tara had no way of knowing if time was on her side, but she knew for damn sure that _luck_ wasn't.

Tara fixed the most neutral expression she could muster on her face before slowly, turning around to face him.

"_Jesus Christ!_" David hissed, reaching out to touch her neck for an entirely different reason that the one from two nights ago. "Baby, are you okay?"

Tara didn't know if her cringing had more to do with his words or his touch and it didn't matter which. She felt shitty all the same.

"I'm fine, David," she answered, gingerly removing his hand from her throat. That same hand moved to brush her hair out of her face, no doubt so she could see the earnest expression he was giving her.

"You have to press charges, Tara. Unser can't make _this_ go away. Half the town saw her do it."

Tara cocked an eyebrow in challenge. "Including you?"

_Jax on the fence about choosing me over his family is one thing. What was your excuse for just standing there? _

_For not making sure I was okay?_

David shook his head. "I didn't want to have to chauffer Sarah around all weekend so I drove her to pick up her car," he said.

_Oh. Right._

He did say he was looking for her when he first walked in.

"I wish I was there," David admitted, his hand slowly gravitating towards the purpling bruise around her neck again. "I can't believe everyone just stood there…. Even Opie…_and Jax_"

"I get it," she confessed quietly, a sad smile creeping into her features. "It's fucked up and I won't pretend it didn't hurt me at first….but I get it."

David shook his head. "You're way too forgiving and it's always for people that don't deserve it."

_You mean people like Jax._

Tara sighed, shaking her own head. "You're too judgmental."

"I just call things like I see them, Tara. I always have," David argued. The lightness in his tone did nothing to belie the conviction behind his words. "You're the same way, Tara. That's one thing we've always had in common."

Tara smiled, shaking her head. "I disagree. I'm not judgmental….I'm _intuitive._"

David rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. "No, you're a _smart ass_," he teased, finally giving up on trying to keep the smile from spreading across his face.

Tara winked. "But you love it though," she challenged, eyebrows rising.

David's smile dropped. The playful gleam in his eyes seconds before vanished as his face took on an expression so wistful Tara's stomach was immediately in knots. He moved in closer to her, reaching a hand to lightly cup her face, his thumb splayed against the softness of her cheek. His eyes searched hers as if committing their exact shape and color to memory when he leaned down towards her, as he softly nudged her chin upwards.

Panic sent Tara's nerves into overdrive.

Her head was spinning but the anxiety only made her dizzy—it did nothing to waylay the contradicting emotion overtaking other parts of her body. The parts of her that encouraged, that _welcomed_ what was about to happen.

Like her mouth, slick from the tip of her tongue when she'd run it across her bottom lip.

Like her eyes, every bit the green traffic lights as her emerald irises beckoned him forward without the necessity of words.

He was going to kiss her.

Tara liked kissing.

Tara liked kissing the guy that was about to kiss her.

She liked it very much.

"That's not the only thing I_ love_," David breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love—"

And there it was.

The source of her anxiety, the reason it felt wrong to give in to what her body wanted.

When Tara closed her eyes it wasn't in anticipation of the kiss she knew she shouldn't go through with. She shut them tight, wincing at her own words before they even blew past her lips, out into the open air.

"_David, don't_," she whispered, shaking her head once. Tara stepped back, moving away from his touch, away from his words—away from him. But the distance did nothing to assuage her guilt. Regret permeated the walls of her heart until her eyes burned from tears she refused to shed this time. "Please…_don't say it…_it's not fair…I can't let you…I'm being selfish."

"What are you talking about?"

It was amazing how she knew exactly what the expression on his face looked like before even opening her eyes. When she finally did, the truth crashed down on her like an avalanche, and all the numbness from the cold pooled in her chest.

She was never afraid to tell Jax about David. That wasn't the moment she'd been dreading the most.

The moment she feared was now.

_This _was the conversation she'd been afraid of all along. The one where she'd finally have to admit what she'd been reluctant to accept.

When she finally spoke, her voice was every bit as small as the tear on the end of the _Charming HS 1989 Basketball Championship_ banner hanging on the wall behind him. "The other night you told me to _figure it the fuck out_—"

David was already shaking his head. "—I was angry. I said a lot of sh—"

"—I did what you asked me to." Tara's voice rose just enough to silence him.

"And?" David prompted when she paused.

Summoning courage she didn't know she had, Tara met his eyes. "I like you, David_. _I like the way you make me feel. I being around you. I like being _with _you. And even with all the drama, all the back and forth…even with everything you've ever said or done that hurt me or pissed me off…nothing has ever changed the way I feel about you. I don't know if anything could."

David's mouth quirked up at the corners. The warmth in his smile did nothing to thaw out the ice building up inside her. He moved to close the gap between them again, his smile quickly turning into a frown when she backed away from him—again.

"Why are you—" Tara closed her eyes, cringing once again and David cut his own question short as the words she'd spoken out loud resonated in his mind, shining a bright light on what she hadn't said—shifting his attention to what she was trying to say without using the words at all. "_You like me_." Tara opened her eyes, nodding her head once. "You _like_ me….but you love Jax."

Tara shrugged. "I don't know."

_I really don't. And I'm not ready to figure it out._

"But he's the one you want to be with…you choose _him?._" David's voice barely went up at the end. That's how she knew it wasn't a question. They both knew it. He wasn't really asking. He already knew the answer.

That didn't mean she couldn't give him the clarity he wanted, the transparency he deserved after months of being a stand-in, her security blanket, her plan B. Every accusation he'd thrown at her the other night had been spot on. After weeks of dealing with her hypocrisy, her mood swings, all the hot and cold she owed him at the very least the truth.

"I'm not _choosing_ him, David...if I had a choice you wouldn't even be standing here in front of me right now...because that would mean it's possible to control how you feel…."

But that didn't mean she'd let him completely off the hook. Misleading him was merely a byproduct of lying to herself. And even if she wasn't coming clean, unlike Jax who clueless to what David meant to her, David had known how she felt all along.

"_…_and _you_ can't turn it off either... That's why you're still here trying to make it work with me even though you already knew how i really felt before I had the nerve to tell you._"_

David nodded in agreement even as his frown deepened. "He's gonna hurt you, Tara."

"Then we'll have something else in common."

"Hearts broken by the person we love?"

"I never said I loved him," Tara argued meekly.

"I don't hear you denying it either."

Tara forgot all about being contrite as her eyes narrowed, her temper flaring without any real provocation.

_I guess Jax's rage-o-meter is on the money. Not even ten seconds._

Tara's scowling expression changed to one of confusion when David began to laugh.

"This shit is ridiculous_._...hearing you _say it_...you making up your mind was supposed to help…This is the part where I'm supposed to walk away hating you."

"This is going to sound really selfish but I don't want you to hate me," Tara admitted.

"What _do _you want from me, Tara?"

"Can we be the kind of friends that _don't _occasionally suck on each other's necks?" David scowled, and Tara swore the sweat beaded on her brow from the heat of his glare instead of the lack of AC in the building. "_Too soon?" _

"Way to soon," David grumbled. "That awful joke did the trick though. I think I'm starting to hate you now."

"If that were actually _true_…I'd deserve it."

"I hope he fucks up…_badly. _And don't care if that makes me sound like an asshole. I mean it."

Tara smirked, shaking her head at him. "You just can't wait to say 'I told you so' can you?"

"_Fuck that_. I just want you to see who you're really meant to be with…"

"_David_," Tara whined. "Believe it or not I don't enjoy torturing you….I don't want you waiting for him to screw up."

"You want to me to what? be your friend?"

Tara's answering shrug seemed to add even more of a slump in her shoulders. "I want you to at least _try._"

_I'm a selfish bitch for even admitting it…but you asked._

"Okay."

Tara head shot up. She'd expected him to tell her to kick rocks. Lord knows that's what she would have told him if the roles were reversed.

"_Okay?_"

David nodded once.

Tara had to fight the urge to glare at him again.

And Opie thought her poker face was awful.

"By the way," David said as if something had just occured to him. "I probably should have mentioned it sooner…your manager was looking for you, too. Either she was the only other person besides me and Sarah that didn't see what happened or she doesn't give a shit. Either way she told me if I found you first to tell you packing up the booth is yours and Carlie's responsibility—"

"—which basically means _mine_."

David chuckled. "…and you better finish in time to show up for your shift at the store."

Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, Tara missed the brief glare David shot over her shoulder.

"I guess you'll have to assure me that being friends is enough some other time," Tara said, grinning despite the new hit her already gloomy mood had taken. "I'll see you later?"

"_Yeah." _Moving in closer to her for the third time, David held his arms out, chuckling lightly when she narrowed her eyes at him. "…Friends are allowed to give each other hugs you know."

_Now who's the smart ass? _Tara thought. But this time she didn't back away.

He wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her in tight against chest. Their embrace was one of familiarity as she automatically threw her arms over his shoulders, her hands clasping together at the base of his neck.

Tara found herself more amused than annoyed when she had to be the one to pull away first. Still the kiss he'd pressed against her face as she moved her hands from around his neck sent her nerves into a frenzy that had her avoiding his eyes when she mumbled, "_Bye_," before walking past him.

Seconds later she realized she'd taken off in the wrong direction. The exit she needed to go through was on the other side of the gym.

But there was no way she was turning back around. She'd finally made up her mind and she wasn't changing it.

She didn't want to change it.

She also didn't want to get David's hopes up again, not for even a second.

She'd hate _herself_ if she did that.

* * *

**|FOLLOW|** _AND_ **|REVIEW*******|**…. That is all I ask of you.

That and _enjoy _reading. I am writing this for that purpose after all.

-**Veritable** Old _Lady_ **Crow**

NEXT UP **_LOOKS CAN BE DECIEVING….._**


	29. Chapter 29

**HEADS UP: **Tara-Jax shippers…..just _breathe…._breathe okay? We all know what the [END] game is lol =)

BTW: This is short & sweet (okay maybe just short). Point is..right, exactly. it's straight to the point. This is the precursor to some good old fashioned Teller-rage...the shit that makes roid-rage look like an upset toddler lol

* * *

Jax stood there frozen.

He ignored the ice-cold feel of the lockers against his bare skin as he leaned back against them. Absently, he twisted the |SAMCRO| T-shirt in his hand, wringing it tight like one would a wet towel.

Sarah loved to stir up trouble.

She always knew just what to say to get under someone's skin. And she'd worked her magic on him tenfold. She knew exactly what weapon to use against him. But even though the stab had landed, Jax refused to let her twist the knife lodged in his chest.

Sarah Hale was lying on her ex-best friend purely to get a rise out of him—one that was different from the kind she usually worked for.

But Jax wasn't going to give her the satisfaction—he wouldn't be giving her _any _satisfaction ever again.

Sarah was lying about Tara and David just like she lied about everything else. Everyone around that girl was just another piece on the board for her to play with and Jackson Teller was out of the game for good.

It didn't matter that David Hale being Tara's secret boyfriend made perfect sense. Jax was unwilling to accept that Tara had a good reason to hide the fact that she was with that self-righteous jackass_._ Jax pushed the memory of her getting upset over him talking about seeing David and Maize in the parking lot from his mind. The hesitation in her eyes when he leaned in to kiss her in the cafeteria during their second day of detention was for that _Geek with the bike_ not the guy he hated since junior high school. The _just friends _speech Tara had given him was because she was scared of how strong her feelings were for him not because she wanted to be with David instead.

And Opie Winston was his best friend, his brother, his right hand.

Jax sure as hell wasn't prepared to even entertain the notion that Ope' knew about David the entire time and didn't say a goddamn word.

Sarah Hale was full of shit.

And when he heard the light click-clack of heels against the locker room floor he hoped that it was her, returning for round two. He was more than ready to call her out on the bullshit lie she'd just told him.

It _was_ Sarah.

Again.

But her tears were gone, dried against the apples of her cheeks just as quickly as they'd fallen. She had a look of triumph swirling in her grey eyes, her mouth quirked up to one side like she was in on a joke he'd missed the punchline for.

"You think I'm full of shit, don't you?" Sarah challenged. Crooking her finger at him, she nodded her head towards the entryway for the high school gym. "I already did the _tell _part_…._Come on, Prince. You're missing the _show_."

Slowly, as if his feet were made of lead Jax followed behind her. Sarah stopped short, folding her arms across her chest as she smirked at something all the way on the other side of the gym. Jax followed her line of vision.

And what Jax saw caused a brief stutter in his heart, followed by a frenzied thumping against his ribcage that had his eardrums ringing. There was a tightness in his chest threatening to spread further up North, until the sting of betrayal spread across the handsome features of his face. He was twisting and untwisting the shirt still in hands, every wring a little closer to cutting off the circulation in his fingers.

Sarah turned around, her back facing _them_.

It was obvious she didn't step foot in the gym to bear witness to public displays of affection on the other side of the room. She was there for front row seats to an entirely different show.

When David's eyes darted over towards the corner where they stood, hazel eyes connected with blue. Sarah didn't get to see the sharpness in her brother's eyes, the triumphant smile he wore as he pulled Tara into him, wrapping his arms around her waist. Sarah didn't get to relish the way Tara reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, embracing David's hug as he rested his chin on her shoulder. David pulled back just enough, his eyes never leaving Jax's as he picked the spot between her left cheek and ear, pressing his lips against the skin there. That would have been the cherry on top for Sarah…if she'd been looking in their direction.

She wasn't.

Instead she was studying Jax. Her eyes scanned his face, eagerly waiting.

"I'll give her one thing," Sarah said, standing in front of Jax. "Tara changes my mind almost as often as she changes her own. Once again _I stand corrected. _I thought Tara and _Opie_ were cute together…but her and Davey? _Way cuter._"

Jax could practically see drool pooling at the corners of her mouth. Watching her through the corner of his eye, he knew exactly what Sarah expected—what she wanted.

A reaction.

She was waiting for him to react—fly off the handle.

She wanted to drink in how much seeing the two of them together hurt him. She wanted proof that Jackson Teller had actual feelings that were capable of being hurt…the same way he'd crushed hers.

_No more fuckin satisfaction, _Jackson thought. _For either one of you._

Shaking his head at the curly-haired blonde in front of him once, he offered her the signature Teller smile, the grin that complimented the devil-may care demeanor he normally assumed without effort. The smile on his face took a lot of effort. And every ounce of swagger in his step was forced as he wordlessly turned on his heel, moving past the locker room, heading straight for the side exit he'd come through when he'd chased after the brunette wrapped up in his enemies arms on the other side of the gym.

But his feet moved with ease when he'd finally turned his back on them—all _three _of them.

Especially Tara.

* * *

**FYI:**Even though I'm a natural born procrastinator, a big part of the reason theirs a long delay in the updates is because I'm unsure of where to go as far as the storyline or even which plot to present first or what current one I should maybe wrap up sooner/later. I had **three** plot ideas (post-Jax/David revelation) and not enough feedback from reviews to see which one i should lean towards so I just picked randomly.

**FEEDBACK **on the parts/scenes you like(d) the most helps when I'm trying to figure out what direction I should go next.

I'm excited about all the _**amazing**_ followers (including the guests) I have but so few of you are writing reviews. The shortest Chapter I've written was about 1,700 words but on average each chapter is usually 4,000**++.**

**Please |**_**REVIEW|**__every__*** Chapter._

|**FOLLOW**| as well. Or if you don't have an account (yet) simply sign with your name or a pen name when writing in the review section so I can respond if theirs a question or comment I want to address.


	30. Chapter 30

**THANK YOU! =) All the |****PLOT**** INFO| below is for **_all  _**readers.**

ALL the feedback i got in the reviews was _UH-MAZING_ and believe it or not it definitely helped me with the flow of the next couple chapters as far as the story-line goes so _keep it up! _It'll be an essay if i address every* single thing so I'll try to be quick about it so you can hit get to the GOODS lol.

**_An Insane Asylum Full of Roses _**IF** is dependent on how well this fanfic does; if i keep writing it up until the adult years i definitely have a plot already in mind that's equal parts AU & based on the TV show. that's all I'll say ;)

**_GoodGirlGoneBad1984 _**reviews like yours are the reason I still update when I'm too stressed/lazy to. Everyone's feedback, including yours wrapped up David's arc a lot faster than i originally intended & resulted in a completely different plot i hope you guys will enjoy.

**_Summerd123 _**another example of great feedback. The Tara-Gemma dynamic is going to be fun to play with. I can't wait to read how you guys feel about their relationship as it goes from ICE COLD...to lukewarm...to HOT...to FREEZING again lol.

**_KillerHigh _**As long as theirs interest (follows/reviews) I'll try to keep up with this Fanfic as often as possible. Appreciate the encouragement =)

**_TaraGray218 _**JAX IS ANGRY Y'ALL. But that Teller-rage is about more than just Tara & David. Young guy has some _MAJOR_ angst that's about to reach its boiling point.

**_(Guest) Dina _**Just because you're so awesome a David-Jax face to face is in the cards…. _maybe_ two. I won't spoil you on when though lol

**_Jcampbell943 _**Clearly you're not alone. Everyone seems to hate Sarah. I love that you called her Gemma Jr. Both her & Gemma have similar parenting & i didn't even realize until now. both are raised by mothers that don't approve/wants her daughter to be different. Sarah is a wild child like Jax without the love & attention he gets regularly. I firmly believe that some monsters are _made._

**_EVERYONE ELSE _**Gimme some feedback, peeps! & **EVERYBOD-ayyy **enjoy the next chapter(s) **(7,000+ words _Phew!_) **and don't forget to review. tee-hee

**-Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

"Wow, Jax," Sarah shouted at his back. "I thought running away was Tara's M.O. Since when did you become such a pussy? She's _the one _right? Why don't you man up and fight for her? I bet she'd love that shit."

No, she'd love that.

Sarah loved being at the center of drama. She enjoyed lighting matches and watching everyone around her go up in flames.

_The fact that you want me to flip out and beat the shit out of your own brother just shows how much of a fuckin sociopath you are, you crazy bitch._

Instead of turning around to face her Jax made his way through the parking lot, eyes darting left to right as he actively searched for one truck in particular.

Piney's.

Where ever the truck was that was where he'd find Opie, and if he was unfortunate—which seemed to be a trend in his life as of late—his pain in the ass girlfriend Donna, too.

Jax was ninety-eight percent sure he didn't really want to hear what his best friend would have to say but he'd be damned if he let another thing slide without getting what _he_ had to say off his chest.

"HEY, PRINCE CHARMING! Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners? You're supposed to look at people when they're talking to you. You trying to hide your tears or something?"

Jax continued to ignore her, right up until he reached the vacant spot where Piney's truck should have been—where it would have been if Opie hadn't already left.

_SHIT._

"Who are you looking for?" Sarah asked, stopping behind him. "Opie?"

Sarah's laughter was pure ice. Jax's teeth may have been chattering if not for his temper, fueling the heat thrumming through his bloodstream, making him grit his pearly-whites together instead.

"You mad he didn't tell you that your childhood sweetheart was blowing my brother when she wasn't busy hiding in a corner to make out with you? I think the Prince Charming title is finally going to your head, Jax. You think you're the only one allowed to keep secrets? How would Harry feel about what _you're_ keeping from him? I tell you what...I'll let you know when I tell him—"

If Jax spun around any faster he would have given himself whiplash.

But when he faced her, he didn't yell. He merely shrugged his shoulders. "Go ahead."

_Fuck everybody. I don't give a shit who you'll hurt right about now._

Sarah's eyes widened briefly before incredulity took over her expression. "You think I won't? I'm not afraid of you or your bullshit threat about mommy dearest. Your parents aren't the only ones with power in this town. If Gemma knows what's good for her she won't come anywhere near me. My daddy's not some loser drunk. He's a judge and a very well respected figure in the comm—"

The car peeled through the lot, towards them too quickly for either teenager to really take cover. Jax was just barely out of harm's way and it was only because he wasn't the target.

The teenage girl standing not even two feet away from him was.

Natural reflexes took over, Sarah slid sideways without even a second to spare as she avoided a head-on collision with the speeding car's front bumper. Falling to the ground, her foot twisted, her leg scuffed from calve to knee as adrenaline abated the pain in her ankle, giving her the strength to get up. The silver four-door screeched to a halt, coming to a stop inches from the patch of asphalt Sarah shot up from.

"_WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"_

Jax and Sarah's eyes both immediately shot towards the front passenger seat. The wide-eyed, shocked expression on Lauren Vidal's face matched the anxiety in her loud, ringing voice to a tee.

The driver's side door flew open almost as if it'd been kicked, and those same two pairs of eyes—both the grey and the blue—shifted towards the middle-aged woman in a wrinkled floral print dress, stalking towards Sarah.

In the seconds it took Sarah to fully register what was happening, the woman had already grabbed her by her shoulders, swinging her around, the sixteen year olds lower back colliding with the hood of the car.

Jax heard the front passenger side door open just seconds before Lauren ran around the front of the car, blocking his view as she resumed screaming at her mother, stepping back as the woman threw her elbowback when the distraught daughter made the mistake of grabbing her mother's arm.

"MOM!"

Sarah back was to the hood of the car, arms flailing as she failed to avoid angry fists and swiftly striking open palms. Mrs. Vidal clearly couldn't decide between punching and slapping the shit out of her so she chose to go with a combination of the two.

"MOM, STOP IT!"

Lauren grabbed a fistful of her mother's ugly—and undoubtedly expensive—dress, yanking her backwards. Her mother turned just enough to swat her hands away giving Sarah the momentum she needed to sit up. The mad woman turned back around and her face was greeted with Sarah's fist. It was the only blow she landed before her arms were twisted behind her back, her face smashing into the windshield.

Giving up on reigning her mother in by herself, Lauren turned an accusatory glare at the handsome blonde standing behind them with his arms folded across his chest.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE? _HELP ME!_"

Jax's heart was racing, the rapid rise and fall of his chest apparent as he watched the scene play out in front of him.

First it was Donna.

Then it was Tara.

When the hell did he become Sarah Hale's personal bodyguard?

_Nope._

Jax had been parched for retribution against the girl getting her ass kicked for a long time now anyway. So unless it looked like the crazy-lady might actually kill Sarah he wasn't lifting a hand to help her with _shit._

He didn't even bother stating the obvious either. He simply shrugged those broad shoulders of his—the one's already shaking with quiet laughter.

Reaching up, he pulled at the cigarette tucked behind his ear. Patting the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled a lighter from inside the denim square, lighting the tip of the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Jax got one good, measured pull of the cancer-stick in between his lips before the earsplitting screech of yet another car sounded, this time directly behind him.

To Jax's surprise, Mr. Suit & Tie himself appeared. He was already out of his car, brushing past him before he could even turn around good to get an up close look at the damage Opie had done to his face earlier.

"ANGELA!" he yelled as he snaked his arms around the woman's waist, dragging her backward. "_What the hell are you doing?" _he screamed at her as he spun her around so that he was standing between his angry wife and the battered, sixteen year-old girl trying and failing to wipe away the steady flow of tears falling down her face away with the back of her hand. "_She's just—"_

"—A WHORE!" Angela yelled, finishing his sentence. "She's a little slut and you're a fuckin pedophile!"

"Daddy," Lauren whined, rolling her eyes. "You said you'd never do it again. You promised—"

Lauren skirted backwards as her mother whirled around, crazed-eyes widening. "_You knew about this?_"

"It was a long time ago," Lauren argued, her voice small. "He told me he'd stop."

"How could you—"

"_Save the bullshit indignation, mother,_" Lauren snapped. In a matter of seconds she looked like her mother's twin as her own eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't even try to blame your fucked up marriage on me. You knew about them, too."

"Yes, I knew he was cheating you ungrateful little brat!" Angela's arm flew out, her finger pointing behind her. "I thought the bitch was at least old enough to order a glass of wine! Not a _teenager!_"

"I'm surprised there's any wine left for anyone else to order as much as you drink!" Lauren swiped.

_All I'm missing is a bucket of popcorn._

_And a pepsi._

_No, Mountain Dew._

_And some Twizzlers._

"This isn't the time or the place," Rick Vidal tried to argue. His protest was met with yet another fist as his wife abruptly drew her hand back punching him in an already bruised nose.

"_You listen to me, you cradle robbing son of a bitch_," the woman hissed between clenched teeth. "I want you and all your shit out of the house _ta-night!_"

"You can't kick him out of his own house," Lauren argued.

_Another daddy's girl, _Jax thought, blowing smoke from his nose. _Hellcats in bed. Ruler's of all that is evil every-fuckin-where else._

"I can do whatever the I want including ship your ass to where your d_addy's _high school mistress should have stayed. _Boarding school._"

Lauren's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know an awful lot about the _teenager _you claim you knew nothing about."

Angela ignored her daughter's accusation, steeling her gaze on her husband. "I already hired an attorney. He'll be in touch…Your reputation…your career….you _freedom…._This shit could get real messy for you, Rick. If you're smart you'll give me _everything_ I want…starting with not having to see your face when I wake up tomorrow morning. You have two hours to come get your stuff."Angela spun on her heel, walking towards her car.

Sarah, who had been leaning stock-still against the hood of the car quickly moved out of the way, half-limping in Jax's direction.

Opening her car door, she looked over at her daughter. "Unless you're planning on moving into the motel with your father—"

"—Go on, honey," Rick encouraged, rubbing his daughter's shoulder. He kissed her forehead. "We'll figure this all out, I promise."

_Bullshit, _Jax thought, scrunching his lips up to one side of his face. Chewing on the side of his bottom lip, he gave her a quick head to toe appraisal as it suddenly occurred to him that Lauren Vidal was probably the only girl in his grade he hadn't hooked up with.

Besides Donna.

And Tara...not that he_ couldn't_ have. He'd been the one to stop it after all.

_I should have just kept going. Why the hell did i stop her?_

Rick walked away first, purposefully not looking in Sarah or his scorned wife's direction as he got in his car driving off.

"You coming or not?" Angela asked, her french manicured hands resting on top of the open driver's side door.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm going anywhere with you," Lauren seethed, turning to walk back towards the Charming High School football field where the booths were set up. "I'll get a ride with Stacey."

"Your squad left half an hour ago," her mother argued to her retreating back.

"Then I'll find Maize!" Lauren Yelled back. "Or I'll walk the twenty blocks...just leave me the hell alone, _Angela_."

Angela got in her car and sped off, the glare on her face making Jax wonder if she'd been tempted to run over her daughter instead of past her.

Jax took one final lung-scorching pull of the cigarette in his hand before dropping it on the ground, snuffing it out under the weight of his sneaker.

Sniffling sounded to the right of him. Against his better judgment he looked over at her.

Sarah looked a mess. Her hair was a bird's nest on top of her head, her bottom lip split at the corner. Specks of red dotted her right eyebrow where a nasty gash was. Her skin was already beginning to purple in the space between her left eye and nose. The dampness of her face seemed to magnify the swelling of her cheeks.

But considering she'd just gotten the shit beat out of her all of these things made sense.

The pitiful, puppy-dog look she was giving him did not.

Did she really expect him to feel sorry for her?

"A lot of people in this town seem to think that _SAMCRO _is the problem around here," Jax mused out loud, with a subtle shake of his head. "…and yet every time I turn around it's the _Hale's _stirring shit up…especially you."

Sarah spit on the ground, a glob of red on the dark asphalt. "I hope Harry hates you when he finds out. _Tara, too_."

Sarah spun on her heel, trying and failing to storm off. Instead of the usual saunter she stumbled, the final ounce of adrenaline gone as pain shot through her ankle.

She'd twisted it when she fell trying to get out of the way of the car speeding towards her. Jax had seen it. A sprained ankle made just as much sense as the state of her face.

But the only thing more ridiculous than her expecting sympathy from him was his reaction to seeing her go tumbling over.

Sarah Hale was a troublemaker, no question. She got off on being the center of attention, the architect behind the stages set up for all the drama she created.

She'd known about David and Tara the entire time. She'd told him the truth only to hurt him.

She'd used the secret they both had kept for years to try to manipulate him.

And she hadn't even been back a week and she'd already managed to make Opie Winston, his best friend's life a living hell.

But that was classic Sarah.

She was exactly the same as before she left. Conniving or not she played the same role in his life. Sarah and Gemma—his meddlesome mother—were the only people in his life that hadn't changed. They were the only ones whose actions didn't surprise him…or hurt him even if they pissed him off.

Walking over to her, Jax leaned down grabbing her by her hands to pull her up off the ground. "Which way is your car? Or did you ride here with the douchebag?"

Jax almost laughed at her expression, a cross between confused and nervous.

"It's on the other side of the parking lot," Sarah answered after a pregnant pause.

_Of course it is._

_I should just legally change my name to Prince Charming. Make this shit official, _Jax thought shaking his head.

"This doesn't change anything," Jax warned her, as he began helping her walk through the lot.

"I didn't say—"

Jax pulled away from her, her arm falling from across his shoulders. Sarah barely caught her balance as she looked over at him.

Jax shook his head. "_Shut up. _I'm helping you to your car and then I'm _done_. You say anything else to me and you can make like a fuckin rabbit and hop." Jax's smile was every bit as nasty as hers was back in the locker room. "Do you think _I'm _full of shit?"

Sarah's flaring nostrils didn't have the desired effect with drying blood crusting at the corners of them. She nodded stiffly, and Jax grabbed her hand, wrapping her arm back around his shoulders.

* * *

**THOUGHTS?**

**Oh && QUICK FYI: **all my responses were written the same day I finished this chapter which was quite a few days ago lol. You guys know I like to post _at least_ (2) chapters at a time so i had to delay posting right away. _Anyway_ some of you didn't get direct responses b/c y'all reviewed after I'd already uploaded the chapter. No disregard intended.


	31. Chapter 31

This is for YOU**, (_Guest_) Dina, KillerHigh **& all those that wanted some David-Jax action! I don't know if you'd call it a "conversation" exactly LOL.

Hope you like where I'm taking the story as both of the Hale's arcs wrap up.

**FYI**: I'm not writing David out completely...just pushing him into the background. He's still as much a part of their past history (teenage years) as he is in their present (my _slightly _AU version of the adult years should i write the next part after this Fic). It's just the Tara & David "Couple" element that's finally out of the picture.

No seriously, as of now my muse is bored with torturing poor Dave.

**- V**eritable** O**ld** L**ady** C**row

* * *

They made their way to the other side of parking lot in silence. When they reached her car however, Sarah's voice cut through it.

"Jax—"

_"_I said I didn't want to hear it, Sarah! You and Tara can both go to hell._ Your boyfriend _Harry_ can meet you there!"_

"I'm not talking ab—"

"—I don't give a shit what you're—"

"I can't drive."

"—talking about! I'm done list—"

"I sprained my ankle!"

"SO THE FUCK WHAT?"

"How the hell am I supposed to drive?"

_Shove your feet through the floorboard and ride like the fuckin Flintstones, bitch._

"That's your problem," Jax sneered.

He heard the car slide to a stop behind him before a car door opened and shut. Recognition dawned on Sarah's as she briefly looked at something over his shoulder. "Never mind," she said, leaning against her car door. "You can go."

"_What the fuck?!"_

A light breeze tickled the fine hairs on Jax's arm as he brushed right past him.

Back facing towards him, David Hale was a deer standing right in the cross-hairs of a hunter and he had no fuckin idea.

"What the fuck happened? Who did this to you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Davey," Sarah sulked, playing up the damsel in distress shtick to its fullest. "Just take me home okay?"

Jax watched as David's head tilted forward, eyes observing the way she leaned against her car, one foot not touching the ground. "What the hell happened Sarah?" he questioned again.

"_Not now, okay?"_

Jax's barking laughter ripped through the air. _It's like you two share the same fuckin brain. __That and the desire to make my life miserable._

David jerked around towards the sound, his eyes narrowing.

"You think this shit is funny? I don't know what Tara—"

Her name on his tongue was enough to sober Jax up. The laughter died in his throat, incinerated by his own temper flaring.

Jax's death glare wasn't what made David cut his sentence short, however. He was looking between Sarah and Jax, hazel eyes lingering on the marks dug into the Jax's wrists, the scratches on his neck—all courtesy of Tara Knowles.

Not Sarah Hale.

Realization of the conclusion he'd drawn only served as a catalyst to Jax's temporary return to a state of amusement.

"Oh give me a fuckin break," Jax said, smirking.

David either didn't understand the answer Jax had indirectly given to his unspoken question or he didn't want to—probably the former.

He turned towards his sister. "Did he—"

"NO!" Even Sarah was looking at her brother like he had five heads. "Just because he's a dickhead doesn't mean—no, David! _Jesus. _I know you hate him but seriously, get a grip!"

David studied her expression. Satisfied she was telling the truth, David turned towards Jax. "Can't really blame me for assuming… ..._Gemma Teller_ likes to beat on teenage girls. And you know what they say….like mother like _daughter_."

Jax took a quick glance over his shoulder before backing up slowly, his eyes locked with David. He stopped moving when his back hit something sleek and hard.

"Get away from my car, asshole," David said, storming towards him. He stopped short, the widening of his eyes matching the gasp that escaped Sarah's throat when Jax pulled a switchblade from his pocket, flicking it open.

Jax chuckled as a mixture of panic and disbelief muddled David's features.

Holding it out in front of him so both Hale's could see it good, he nodded his head up at the taller of the two, his eyebrows shooting towards his scalp, a predatory smile playing at his lips as he turned sideways—scraping the knife along the glossy black paint of David's car.

All that was missing from David's state of barely contained rage was steam seeping from his ears, but he made no move to come closer to the knife-wielding teenager. Standing eerily still, David's chest rose and fell, his shoulders bouncing feverishly up and down, jaw clenched tight.

Jax's blood was pumping, his hands shaking with the need to ball them up into fists. He was ready for him, so anxious that there was a delay in his understanding of why David wasn't already charging towards him.

Jax looked down at the knife in his hand.

"You afraid of this?" Jax asked, holding the blade up in front of him again. Jax pressed his thumb to the button on the side of it.

Just like that the razor-sharp blade disappeared from sight. And in the same breath he gripped the closed blade in his fingers, spun around and in one motion slammed it against David's driver side window, shattering the glass.

"_SON OF A BITCH!_"

David Hale was a bull and Jackson Teller was all dressed in red. He charged towards him, fist connecting with Jax's jaw.

David was pissed about his car—and unbeknownst to the sixteen year old knocking him to the ground, he was furious that he'd lost the girl he loved to the guy he hated.

But Jax was a tidal wave of undiluted rage that the adrenaline in David's bloodstream couldn't match.

David was angry with Jax.

Jax was angry with every-_fuckin_-body.

And David's face was a welcome outlet for all the pent up frustration he felt.

"Jax! _Stop it_, get off of him! _JAX!_"

Sarah had somehow hobbled her way over to the two boys rolling around on the ground. But her shrieking protests were futile as the fists kept flying—Jax's fists. David had given up on throwing punches as his hands found their way around Jax's throat, squeezing tight every time he managed to throw him off and pin him to the ground.

"_JACKSON_!" yelled a gruff voice.

The undisputable authority in his tone had a familial quality. Unfortunately the sudden appearance of John Teller did nothing to abate Jax's anger—it was merely more fuel on rapidly rising flames.

"Jax! You made your point, bro!" shouted another familiar voice.

Opie: trigger number three.

The only way David's luck would have been shittier was if Tara voice joined in with the other two offenders shouting on the sidelines.

They weren't on the sidelines very long though.

The final shift was in Jax's favor as he shoved David off him, slamming his back against the white lines engraved in the parking lot concrete, his fist crashing against his mouth. Raw knuckles grated against David's teeth, the open air stinging them as he was lifted off the ground by his waist, and pulled backwards, his shirt bunching up above the forearms of the man holding him in his clutch.

Opie stepped out in front of him.

That left JT as the source of his restraint.

Jax writhed against his father, fighting against his embrace—elbows ramming against the limbs shackling him in place with no success.

"You two!" JT yelled, his voice ringing in Jax's ear. "Get the hell out of here! _Now!_"

"Come on, Davey," Jax heard Sarah say.

"Calm down, bro," Opie reasoned. Stepping closer to him, his large figure blocked Jax's view of Sarah helping her brother up off the ground with only half the equilibrium she usually had. "Whatever he said ain't worth going to jail for killing his stupid ass."

JT spun his son around to face him. "You done?" he asked.

Slowly, as if any sudden movement might make his father grab a hold of him again, Jax shrugged JT's hands off of his shoulders, nodding his head stiffly. Once he was satisfied his intent wasn't clear, Jax spun around quickly.

But instead of charging towards the retreating backs of the Hale's he drew his arm back, cold-cocking his best friend square in his face, sending Opie stumbling backwards.

Opie managed to stay upright. Maintaining his balance, shock and confusion flashed in his eyes as his hand flew up to his face, fingertip dabbing against the blood dripping from the cut on his lip.

"HALE? Tara's fuckin _HALE _and you didn't tell me?!"

"This about that Tara girl?" John Teller asked behind him. "_Again?_"

"I'm going to go find Piney," Opie announced, eyes threatening to burn a hole into Jax's face. "I think I'll leave you here to work out all your issues with your _daddy_ before I end up kicking your stupid ass. You only get one free shot. Next time I'm swinging back, asshole..._and I'm not David_."

"Whatever, man." Both teenagers turned their backs on each other, walking off in opposite directions.

"He was your ride, wasn't he? How exactly do you plan on getting home now?" JT called out, following behind him.

"I never said I was coming home," Jax mumbled, not bothering to turn around to face his father.

"Son, listen to me. We can't keep—"

Jax whipped around. "WHAT? What the hell do you want? You in the mood to bond? Is that it? The cemetery is only about ten minutes away from here. Go have a heart to heart with _Thomas_!"

"You're too young to be so goddamn angry," JT mused, shaking his head. "I know a lot of this shit is on me, but Jackson….it's time for you to grow the hell up."

"Into _what? _What have I ever done that you don't do on a daily basis?" Jax challenged. He reached for his shirt, both hands holding up the word |SAMCRO| in large block letter etched across the white tee on his chest. "This is my future right? Anarchy…_Violence…_getting drunk and fuckin around on my Old lady when I'm not too busy running guns."

"That doesn't have to be your life," came JT's answer.

Jax stood there waiting for the solemn look in his father's eyes to crumble, for the punchline to his joke to touch his ears.

Nothing.

"So that's it, huh? I'm not even good enough for your club," Jax said. Pulling his shirt over his head, he tossed it at JT's feet. "Who said I wanted to be a part of it in the first place? That's you and Gemma's dream…well, just Gemma's now I guess."

_"….I used to hate you as much as the rest of them…but then I realized you're just a victim… …. You can't help the family you were born into…"_

Tara was right.

She was also a liar. She never stopped hating him. Whatever that was in the locker room was a fluke. A blip on the radar that meant nothing—to her.

To him it meant….well it didn't matter what it meant.

He was done.

JT sighed, looking down at the discarded T-shirt. "I've been so wrapped in my own pain…my own grief that I've neglected you—"

"—not me. _Us_," Jax corrected. "You've neglected us. You have still have a son a_nd _a wife that need you. Where the hell are you?"

"I'm sorry—"

"I am so _tired _of you fuckin apologizing! Stop saying you're sorry. I don't need an apology!"

_I need you be my father. You're MY father, too….or at least you used to be._

"Just say it, son."

"Say _what?_ What the hell do you want me to say to you?"

"There's a question you've been wanting to ask me."

Jax waved him off. "That doesn't matter anymore."

The small smile spreading across his father's face brought on more confusion than anger. "You're your father's son through and through. You're _my _son and you're every bit as stubborn…just as hot-tempered….and just as righteous. We're cut from the same cloth, Jackson."

Jax rolled his eyes. _Fortune cookie._

_Just like a fuckin fortune cookie._

"It's always going to matter to you," JT continued. "This isn't about a teenage crush. It was never about that."

"I'm gonna go find Ope...and _apologize_," Jax lied, turning to walk off.

"_I never would have let anyone hurt her, Jackson_. Not then…not today. _Never_. She's a child…just like you. You're just a kid, Jackson. Way too young for all the angst and bitterness you're holding onto because of the awful thing you think your father is…"

The proclomation gave him pause. But pride was a pill too thick for Jax to swallow. He was his father's son after all.

He almost turned back around.

Jax almost did what he _wanted_ to do, what they both _needed_ him to do—he almost gave in.

Almost.

Back facing him, Jax's voice was just barely loud enough to reach his father's ears as he spoke the words he wasn't entirely sure he meant, but were words that he _was _sure would the serve the purpose he intended—to hurt.

"_I don't believe you."_

Jax walked away, forcing down the disappointment creeping its way inside of his chest at the lack of footsteps following behind him this time.

* * *

**Bare with me people. Just a _few_ more chapters until everything comes to a head with every plot except ONE lol. I know you come here for the Jax & Tara of it all but despite these characters being wholly borrowed, I'm trying to tell a story, ya know?**

**Stop pulling your own hair. It's prettier on your head, then in your hands 0:-)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Piney Winston **was always one of my favorite characters.

**Just saying.**

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Being referred to as a know-it-all is never was never a fun thing for her.

Sarcasm at its best, it was a title people attributed to someone who only _thought _they were right all the time. Tara Knowles didn't think she was right—not all the time.

But if she had a dime for every time she was right, Elliot Oswald wouldn't have had to help her find a part time at a grocery store.

She would have probably owned half of Charming, California.

The field was pretty much a ghost town, the few people remaining were scattered along the other side of the field, by the time she made it across towards the vacant Monroe Market booth. Carlie, the fellow employee that was supposed to be helping her was nowhere in sight—just as she predicted.

And if that wasn't annoying enough, there was someone Tara neither expected—nor wanted—to see, sitting cross-legged on one of the two table she'd be solely responsible for packing away.

"You okay?" she asked. The genuine concern in her voice was just enough to curb Tara's attitude.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

She cocked an eyebrow at her. "You sure?"

"Positive," Tara replied, reaching for random items on the table adjacent to the one Wendy was sitting on top of. Avoiding eye contact did nothing to diffuse the awkwardness she felt at having to deal with concern of her wellbeing from the girl whose usual role was taunting her until she was red in the face—from anger or embarrassment.

Or both.

Lucky for Tara, Wendy's whole "lean on me" routine met an abrupt end.

"Alright then," Wendy said. "Well, your _boyfriend _was looking for you."

_Here. We. Go._

"Appreciate the heads up," Tara answered, diplomatically. "Excuse me."

Wendy slid off the table as Tara pulled at the table cloth underneath her.

"Aren't you gonna ask me which one I'm talking about?" Wendy teased as Tara folded the cloth into a tiny, perfect square, tossing it in a box she'd lifted from under the table.

"Hilarious," Tara grumbled, her tone anything but amused.

_You should take your show on the road._

_And never bring your ass back._

"I hope you're talking about some joke Wendy here just told you," said a gravelly voice, "because the shit you pulled earlier wasn't funny at all. It was _stupid._"

"Hey, _Piney_," Tara heard Wendy said just before she turned around.

As it usually was with Tara, sarcasm—her weapon of choice was fully loaded, safety off.

"_Wonderful,_" Tara retorted. "Another lecture about my disrespectful behavior...and from an actual outlaw this time instead of one in training. Are you here to grant me an opportunity to say thank you for not letting me die of asphyxia courtesy of your Biker Queen? How many points you think that got you on the karma scale? I imagine you still gotta a lot sins to make up for."

Beside her, Wendy wolf-whistled. "_Damn, girl. _You must really like being choked. Even I know when to shut my—"

"—why don't you head out, Wendy?" It wasn't merely a suggestion and they all knew it. "I need to talk to Tara for a minute. You two can gossip later."

_Don't count on it._

"Okay," Wendy replied. "I guess I'll go try to find Jax…who I don't think I have to mention would be _very_ upset if...you know….Tara went missing or something."

Piney turned his glare on her.

Backing away, her hands out in front of her in mock surrender, the mouthy blonde quickly added, "Or _me…._I think he'd care about me going missing, too. _Later._"

_Yeah, right. You never knew when to shut up._

Tara almost laughed out loud.

Piney turned back to face her, the sternness in his unwavering glare quickly melting away the urge.

"Well?" Tara challenged, after a moment of the two of them just staring. "Get on with it, Yogi."

Piney surprised her by smiling. "You're a real smart ass."

"So I've been told." It was a losing battle to keep her own smile from spreading.

"I won't even waste my time giving you history...telling you what this club means to _me_," Piney said. "When you look at us all you see is blood on our Kuttes and you're just as stubborn as your mother was, so there's—"

Tara quickly shook her head, her mouth in a tight line. "Don't do that. Your wife babysat me once when I had the chicken pox…when I was like five. Don't talk about my mother like you knew her. You were next door neighbors with kids that hung out together. Don't try to use her to manipulate me into Seeing Eye to eye with you about your precious biker club."

"I knew your mother," Piney said.

"_Bullshit."_

"I knew her well enough to know you're _just_ like her," Piney argued. "Beautiful. Intelligent. Strong willed. Way too _cynical. _And just a little too smart for your own damn good judging by how often your big mouth is always getting you into trouble."

Tara shrugged, unconvinced. "You're describing the average teenager."

"There's many words I would use to describe you Knowles women," Piney admitted. "_Average _definitely isn't one of them."

Tara eyes drifted over his shoulder, landing on the lone motorcycle parked near what used to be _SAMCRO's _section of the fundraiser. "I don't know what you want me to say to that."

"I don't want you to say anything. I want you to _listen._" Tara's braved a glance up at the man towering over her. "You're who you are in spite of who your father is…who your _family _is. Just like your mother you're better than him...he doesn't deserve you. And even through all the awful shit he's done…all the shit he _does…_all his shortcomings…you love him anyway."

It wasn't a question at all.

Tara nodded stiffly. "He's my father," she answered, her voice quiet.

"He's your _family_," Piney emphasized.

Tara rolled her eyes towards the sky. "Okay, _Okay_. I get it."

"Do you?" Piney questioned. "What do you think everyone would see if they judged you by who your family is? _SAMCRO_ might be far from Saints but we have each other's backs. The sons of anarchy M.C is a family. We're _Jax's_ family. _Opie's _family. It's the only one those boys will ever know. And we got our dysfunctions just like every other family. You should remember that the next time you open your mouth to condemn everyone that they love…everyone that loves them."

_Damn it._

"I was just trying to piss Gemma off!" Tara huffed, her bottom lip in a defiant pout.

Piney chuckled, making her eyes shoot from the patch of ground between them, back up to meet the mirthful twinkle in his eyes. "_I know."_

"Then can you maybe tell the rest of your biker _family _that so that I don't end up buried in the ditch somewhere. I can't have Wendy thinking she's clairvoyant now, too."

Piney's eyes narrowed, but mild annoyance couldn't keep the smile off his face. "You're just a kid, Tara," he explained. "My brother's aren't the red-neck idiots you think they are, sweetheart. They'r smart enough to know when a Child is throwing a tantrum. Honesly most of the guys are surprised you had to balls to say all that shit to Gem in the first place….I'd steer clear of _Happy _for a while though."

Tara's eyes widened. "There's an outlaw thug named _Happy_?"

"Y-uup," Piney drawled, sounding just like someone else Tara knew. "And he's not very _happy _with you right now."

"Maybe I should apologize," Tara joked, hoping like Hell Piney caught on that she wasn't being serious.

Piney snorted. "Yeah. I'll pay good money to witness that conversation."

_"Oh good! You're almost finished!__"_

Tara turned her head towards the squawking to the left of her. Waddling towards them, jumbo-sized purse on her shoulder was Carlie, the future Mrs. Baby-momma Hale.

"I tell you what, Tara. We're in luck," Carlie continued. "Tonight's gonna be a blue moon for sure. All we have to do is bring those two boxes and that big bag over there. Jake's volunteered to pack up the rest of this stuff _and_ drive me to the store. Apparently he doesn't want me overexerting myself," she explained, rubbing her overgrown baby bump. "I guess he's finally good for something instead of good for nothing. At least for today he is."

_Looks like he was good for something else….for _you_ anyway._

"Go on, Tara," Piney said, backing away. "I need to head over to that _shitty bar I call a clubhouse."_

"Bye," Tara said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"Oh yeah," Piney shouted back at her, a few paces away. "The next time you and Jax drink all my damn Tequila you'll be working it off at Club Reaper. I'll even have _Happy_ show you the ropes."

_Ha. Ha._

"Who the hell named their kid Happy?" Carlie asked.

Tara giggled. "I'm pretty sure it's a nickname."

_I hope._

Carlie looked around "You ready?"

_To do all the work while you rub your belly and talk a mile a minute? _

"Sure let's go."

And towards the parking lot they went, Tara doing her best to tune out the young woman rattling off the birthing plan she couldn't give two shits about beside her.

* * *

**|FOLLOW| && |REVIEW|**...that's all I ask of you =)

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**


	33. Chapter 33

Love you, **hate** you, love to hate you, hate that I love you, **Angsty, **Lusty, Lovey,Make-_**READERS**_-crazy roller coaster ride.

**- Veritable Old Lady Crow**

* * *

Where the hell was this girl?

The _Monroe Market _van was still in the parking lot. And her father's Cutlass was parked in the spot two spaces away from it. Jax had been pacing back and forth for ten minutes, waiting for Tara to show up.

He didn't give a shit who walked up with her either.

There would be no music, no dancing, no laughing and joking—no distractions, not another goddamn deflection.

Sarah was right about one thing. Running away was Tara's M.O, not his. But she wouldn't be running away from him this time. She was going to talk to him, goddamn it.

She was going to admit that she lied to him—he already knew the why.

He'd called it the other night when they were in Opie's bedroom alone. He'd been right from the start. Tara was just like every other girl—like Maize. Only difference was Tara was the true genius.

Pretty little Frankenstein, she couldn't have chosen a better person to make her boyfriend jealous. Why not the person David hated? And all that shit she'd said in the car on their way to school with Sarah, her childhood best friend behind the wheel.

_"…It happened to Opie. It'll happened to you, too. And God help you when you find the girl you can't get out of your head…. …. That chick's going to rip your heart out of your chest and make you eat it."_

It was one of the few moments she was honest with him. But had she known all along that _she _was the girl?

Of course she did. Why wouldn't she know? She knew what she meant to him didn't she? She knew the same way Sarah knew how Opie felt.

Or how Opie _feels._

_JESUS CHRIST._ Was there anything those two girls _didn't _have in common?

_Only one of them is the one you want_, said a voice in his head. Jax was quick to drown it out with the abrupt slamming of his fist against the side of the van in front of him.

Jax shook his hand, holding it out—palm facing down, in front of him.

_Good Job, Jackson. Because your knuckles aren't raw enough._

His mind immediately flashed back to that day in the cafeteria when he jokes with her about how flawless his hands were. Hands that felt right at home, roaming all over her body not even an hour ago.

What was the point in even confronting her? So he could officially confirmed that he'd finally gotten a taste of his own medicine? All the girls he'd run through without even the slightest concern how they felt when he used them. He was wearing their shoes now and they were uncomfortable, a tight fit and not at all his style.

Did he want Tara to deny the truth so he could force himself to forget he ever found out about it? In other words do the very thing he'd bragged to Tara that _girls _always did?

He honestly didn't know who he was more pissed at—_Tara_, for lying to him and using him, or _himself_ for the part of him that still wanted her anyway.

But did he want her really? All of her like he'd thought he did?

Or was this his ego at play? Maybe he just didn't like being bested by anyone, much less David Hale. Maybe that was what he was waiting for: a moment to pretend he knew nothing, a second chance to pick up where they'd left off in the locker room.

Maybe he wanted to turn the Teller-Charm on for her one more time. Maybe he just needed one more opportunity to get her out of his system for good, to check her off the list and still be the first one to walk away this time. A chance he wouldn't forfeit again just because he wanted to do the right thing, to be one of the good guys.

Chivalry was overrated.

What did being the good guy really get you anyway? A neurotic girlfriend that still doesn't trust you in spite of all the ways you try to prove that she should?

Hadn't he been the one to tell Opie that he would never be him?

_"Your _hands_ look almost as fucked up as my _family_."_

Jax stopped mid-pace, looking up to glare at the teenage girl standing just a few feet away from him, casually leaning against Tara's father's car.

"You work at Monroe's?" she asked, nodding towards the newly-dented van, one of the back doors slightly cracked open from the force of the blow he'd landed on it.

_You know damn well I don't spend my time bagging nobody's fuckin groceries, _Jax thought to himself. Out loud he said nothing, hoping his stony silence would be enough for her to take the very obvious hint: If he wanted company he wouldn't be standing in the middle of a fuckin parking lot…alone.

_Keep it moving, bitch, _he thought, doing his all to convey the message with hard eyes.

Instead of walking off she wolf-whistled. "Your mom should sign you up for anger management," she continued. "…but then again after that display at the fundraiser I'd recommend she join you. It must be something in the water….everyone in this town is losing their damn minds."

"Go shoot the shit with one of your pom-pom sisters," Jax snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

Eyebrows raised, her smile was sardonic as ever. "I can see that. The only thing that's confusing me is the _why _part of it. You can't be too upset about your little plaything getting her ass kicked…it didn't seem to bother you when you just _stood there_ watching it happen…but then again you did the same thing with your _other_ playmate…although from what I heard you actually ran after _her_. What's the matter Prince Charming? Tara Knowles not as forgiving as you thought she'd be? I bet _number seven_ is looking like the better choice right about now. _Cheer up, _Teller. She might not forgive you but I bet you you're the only guy that can say you banged the Football Captain's girlfriend."

_Am I the _only _one that didn't know she was dating that asshole?_

"I must be wearing a sign that says _make me hit a female. _You bitches are really tempting me today."

"Maybe that's just the _outlaw _in you." She shot back.

Jax had already turned away from her. He was busy eyeing the dent he'd made in the van, the crack in the door, noting the irony in the fact that he spent his weekdays learning how to fix cars, and his weekends smashing them to all hell.

"I never could really understand what girls see in you," she began, laughing lightly when he jumped at the sound of her voice, turning around to confirm that she'd indeed moved closer to him. "Don't get me wrong, you're handsome and all…but red-neck thugs don't really appeal to me," she continued, rubbing a freshly manicured hand along the skin exposed above his wife-beater.

Staring at her lingering hand as if his glare might burn it off, Jax bit back, "And I don't find snotty rich girls with _drunks_ and _pedophiles_ for parents appealing," he sneered, knocking her hand away from his chest.

Lauren Vidal smirked, glossy lips scrunched to one side of her face. "She might not be rich but Tara Knowles is the snottiest chick I know around here…her dad's an even bigger drunk than _Angie _and if you'd have seen the way ole Arthur was staring at my ass that one time in the post office I'd say she's got the pervert for a parent part locked in as well."

_"What the hell do you want?"_ Jax asked, already sick of the pointless back and forth.

This wasn't what he'd been waiting around for.

This wasn't who he wanted to have it out with.

Jax and Lauren had been going to the same schools since elementary like most of the other Charming kids. He was just fine with their eleven year streak of not having a single interaction. He'd assumed she was too…with her _high sadity_ ass.

"What do I want?" Lauren mimicked. "I'll give you a hint," she said, her hands making their way down his chest again. "…it's the _one_ thing I know you're actually good for…"

Jax's eyebrows rose, surprise overweighing the need to be offended by her statement. "You sure I don't have to buy you a prized pony first?" he taunted.

Her nails scraped against the cloth of his undershirt as she pulled her hand away. "I doubt you ever have to beg for it, Jax…but I know for damn sure that _I _don't…no matter how good you're rumored to be. I guess I'll find another distraction for all the fucked up shit I don't feel like thinking about right now…_your loss_, Teller," she said, backing up to walk away.

"It's actually your loss, Darlin," Jax couldn't help biting back even as he turned away from her again. _Good fuckin riddance._

Where the hell was Tara?

Lauren paused, folding her arms across her chest. "You _sound _like the arrogant asshole I've always heard about…but you're not acting like him. If I'm going by the rumors you should have already taken me somewhere by now. What's your problem, Teller? I know it's not me. I don't give a shit how stuck up you think I am, I saw the way you were looking at me earlier."

"All I had to do was _look at you_ to get you to spread your legs?" Jax goaded, still facing the van. "And here I thought my father had to own a private jet just to get your phone number."

"You sound bitter," Lauren countered. "Don't tell me you've been secretly pining over me all this time."

"Biker trash in love with the girl he can't afford…_I bet you'd enjoy that_," Jax joked. "It's like something out of one of those shitty romance novels you chicks like to read so much." _Bitch please._

"D_on't_ kid yourself."

Jax forced himself to turn around to face her.

_How many ways do I have to show you I want you to FUCK OFF?_

"Why the hell are you still standing here?" Jax asked aloud.

"I could ask you the same question," Lauren challenged. "What the hell are you doing pacing around in a parking lot? You waiting for someone?"

"_Babe the fuckin pig_."

"I'm sorry..._what?_" Even if he hadn't been facing her, the confusion in her voice was enough for him to picture the expression on her Lauren's face.

"Nothing," Jax answered, chuckling bitterly. "_Yeah_…I'm waiting for someone."

_I'm always waiting._

_I'm sick as shit of waiting on people._

* * *

Kyle may have dodged a bullet with Tara Knowles but he was seconds away from Jackson Teller punching him in the face.

The two of them were never friends.

Kyle Hobart was a prospect for a motorcycle club Jackson's father happened to be the founding president of. The twenty minute drive to the Teller-Morrow was supposed to be a quiet one.

But Kyle couldn't shut his damn mouth.

"….and I admit I was being a dick or whatever but _man! _That shit was crazy, Jax! And then when you ran after her…and even Opie was like….I never saw your mother get like that. No wonder she's the Head bitch in—_umm I mean Matriarch! _Wow. I can't believe…..Is Tara okay?"

At the sound of her name, Jax finally turned his glare from the open window to the young man behind the wheel of the Teller-Morrow tow-truck.

"You mean the girl who only gets on her knees for me? The aspiring _Mrs. Prince Charming?"_

Kyle's eye flew to the road ahead of him. "Hey, man. I didn't mean any disrespect towards you. Tara's just so damn stuck up all the time—I mean you know how she is right? Even your mother can't—"

"—If you know what I know you'll shut your fuckin mouth," Jax barked.

"Sorry, man."

"Everybody's _sorry_ today," Jax griped. "It's a recurring theme in my life lately…_Just drive_, Kyle."

"You got it, bro."

* * *

**QUICK FYI: **As I'm sure you noticed, I decided to do a minor scene-jump for this chapter. I had written two different versions of the Tara-Jax confrontation: One from his POV and one from hers.

I liked Tara's POV more. Hope you guys will, too.

But before you hit the [NEXT| button...

**_|REVIEW| && |FOLLOW| =D_  
**


	34. Chapter 34

To **Joelle nettimclaughin: **_ROGER THAT_**! **I never intended to cheat you guys of an epic toe-to-toe with Ms. Knowles & Mr. Teller.

Hope you guys like it. It wasn't a cake walk getting it all to come together on the page.

- **V. Lady Crow**

* * *

"….I read all the baby books Karen gave me from when her sister had Russell so I already knew what to expect…..Braxton Hicks! You'd think my O.B was the one experiencing false labor as annoyed as she got when I showed up at her office the third time. Excuse me if I don't want to risk giving birth to my child in the frozen dairy aisle at work…._ Abigail! _ He wants to name the baby Abigail! As if I'd name my baby something so awful. And I looked it up. It means _Joy of the father_. Daddy wasn't so overjoyed when I decided to keep it!"

"I don't care," Tara said, giggling when—just as she suspected—Carlie didn't hear a word she said. She just kept on going.

_Where's a roll of duct tape when you need it?_

Carlie was still clucking away as they approached the van.

"….I decided I'm not going to petty. If he wants to try and work things out I'm ready to—_what the in the hell?!"_

Tara was equally relieved and horrified that she hadn't been imagining things.

The abrupt stop of Carlie's self-told life story—that and the appalled expression on her doughy face was proof that they were seeing and hearing the same thing.

They both stood there in stunned silence a moment, watching the van rock lightly back and forth. The moans emitting from behind the foggy, dark-tinted windows had Tara's mind flashing back to several mornings ago. The thump of Opie's headboard and Donna's falsetto chanting sending her running out of the Winston house.

_What the f—_

Carlie reach for both handles, wrenching the double doors open.

Bare hips rose up as he gripped her waist, pulling her down to meet his every thrust. Lauren's gaze was unfocused, eyes rolling back, mouth opened wide as her firecracker red nails skimmed across the tanned, lean muscles of his shoulder blades, her other hand scaling up and down his lower back, each time just a little closer to curve of his pale, sun-deprived ass.

That back looked awfully familiar. It looked a lot like the back her own hands caressed before. And that head of slicked back blonde locks looked too much like the head of hair she'd run her fingers through when her back was against those lockers. And when her legs were locked around his waist as he'd eased on her on her back in Opie's bed.

It was Jax, no question.

Tara was surprised she heard Carlie's outburst over the screaming in her own head.

"My _God. _It's like I'm reliving my own stupidity. It must be a townie thing...women losing their panties and all the good sense their momma taught them in backseats and parking lots."

If Jax and Lauren were aware they had company they didn't show it right away.

_"…..oh God…hmm…Oh my…hmm….Oh _shit!_…._"

They'd walked up just in time to watch them finish—her finish anyway.

Tara failed to swallow away the bitterness on tongue as she the look of pleasure on Lauren's disappeared behind the dented van door as Carli quickly pushed it close, the door snapping shut with a loud bang that neither teenager inside could ignore.

"Shit!" They heard Lauren whisper breathlessly. "I think the owner is—"

Carlie lightly tapped on one of the fogged back window, choosing the door she'd actually she'd actually closed. "Umm…you two need to find someplace else to—look, just get dressed. If you hurry it up I won't even call the cops. I got a shift to make anyway. Tara, what are you—"

Tara yanked the van door fully open again, fire in her veins, her green eyes—pure ice.

Lauren's eyes locked with her. "And everyone thinks you're such a prude. I didn't know you were into voyeurism, Knowles," she commented, buttoning her blouse back up.

"You'd be surprised what she's into," Jax commented, his voice hard as he pulled his boxers and jeans the rest of the way up. The toned muscles of his back were still facing Tara as she heard him slide his zipper up, the button of his jeans snapped in place with a light pop not unlike the crackling in the air.

Picking his discarded shirt off of the corner of the van floor, Jax turned around to face her. She hadn't missed the anger in his voice when he'd spoke out, yet Tara's eyes still widened in disbelief at the icy glare he was shooting her.

Whether it was the sex she'd just walked in on, her own closure in the gym with David or a combination of the two—for whatever reason her ex-boyfriend and his troublemaking sister couldn't have been further from her mind.

They never even occurred to her.

_Are you kidding me with this shit?_

"_Chop chop,_" Tara heard Carlie say beside her as she continued her stare off with one Jackson Teller.

This wasn't like before, standing in front of her house debating over who had to ride in the backseat of Sarah's car. Neither teenager had to try to decipher the others mood. Anger was embedded in both of their features.

_Why the hell are _you _pissed? _Tara thought._ I'm the one that just caught you with another girl TEN SECONDS after telling me you want _me_._

_You want me and every other girl too I guess. _

_I'm such a fuckin idiot._

_I can't believe—_

Tara's internal outrage choked off as an annoying truth occurred to her.

It was a harsh pill to swallow but she really didn't have a leg to stand on with what she'd been hiding from him all this time.

And they weren't together—not yet.

If ever.

_You know what, FUCK being the rational one._

That didn't mean she couldn't still be pissed the hell off.

"All your clothes are on. _Who gives a shit how they look?_ Just get the hell out, _Sage._" Tara snapped, calling the busty blonde by her real given name instead of the one she'd officially assumed ever since the spoiled brat's failed attempt at getting her parents to legally change it way back in Junior high school.

It was a testament of the American Judicial system. Whatever judge denied her Daddy Vidal's lawyers request was the Oompa Loompa to _Sage's _Veruca Salt.

"We need to talk," Jackson barked, his still naked chest, rising and falling in tune with the flaring of his nostrils.

_Yeah, no shit._

Tara's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching. "I'll deal with _you_ later."

"_Fuck that_. We're dealing with this now."

"Later is actually better," Carlie interjected, checking the watch squeezing the life out of her chubby wrist. "Jacob should _hopefully_ be here any second. You think you can table this little high school drama until recess tomorrow, kids?"

If Lauren was anything like the first name her parent's had given her at birth she would have kept her mouth closed and backed away slowly.

But she wasn't very _sage _at all.

"Well _this_ was fun," Lauren commented, tucking her blouse in her skirt as she stepped down out of the van. "It's no wonder so many girls are part of the Jackson Teller fan club. I may just have to join myself…I'm starting to see the obsession…with certain _parts_ of you anyway." Looking over at a stony-faced Tara, she had the gall to widen the shit-eating grin spread out across her face. "_Cheer up, Knowles_. I promise I didn't break it. He's all yours. I'm done…_for now._"

Tara's arm snapped back—right fist flying forward, colliding with the grinning girls face. That same right hand immediately flew up to Tara's wide, O-shaped mouth as what she'd just done dawned on her only after the damage was already reflecting back at her.

"_Jesus Christ_," Carlie shrieked. All three teenagers were too preoccupied to notice the conclusion Carlie had drawn after briefly looking back and forth between the three of them.

"I think you broke my nose you _crazy bitch_!" Lauren's voice was muffled behind her own hand as she padded her fingers along the blood trickling down from her nose.

"So what if I did. Your plastic surgeon broke it _first_," Tara said shrugging her shoulders. She fixed her heated emerald gaze on the blonde girl standing in front of her, actively trying her best to ignore how much the _new_ expression on Jax's face pleased her as much as it pissed her off.

"Cheer up," Tara continued, throwing the bleeding girls words back at her. "… Just give the good doctor a call. Tell him that _deviated septum_ problem you lied to all your friend's about is back somehow."

"Wait until my father hears about this!"

"She's a cashier at a grocery store, honey…not CEO at some fortune five hundred," Carlie joined in again, her own eyes narrowing. Tara's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. _What the hell are _YOU _angry about? _"You seriously threatening to sue her? You can't squeeze blood from a turnip….I tell you…you girls love to play the victim when you're messing with somebody else's man…."

And just like that Tara knew what Carlie's assessment of the situation was.

And how she naturally found a way to relate it to her own personal bullshit with the second sluttiest Hale—Jacob Jr.

"…...girls like you are the reason I'm…."

All three teenagers went right back to ignoring the babbling pregnant woman standing with them.

Tara rolled her eyes, unfazed by Lauren's threat. "Something tells me your daddy's lawyers are going to be a little preoccupied with other things," she taunted.

"_Is it true?"_ Lauren asked. Her returning smile was one of triumph, equal parts amused and nasty. "Did I just fuck your _man_? Your knuckles are gonna be as raw as his are if you have to punch every girl Teller's sleeping with…_today alone _I'm guessing."

Instead of responding—or throwing another punch—Tara stood there in stony silence. Jax had procured a cigarette from somewhere. Shirtless still, his wife beater was in his lap as he sat on the floor of the van, flicking the lighter in his hand on and off not yet bringing it to the white stick dangling between his lips.

Lauren didn't wait for a response either. She was wise enough to walk off while she had the chance this time, her shoulder brushing against Jacob Hale's as she sauntered past him.

"_What's going on here?"_ Jacob Hale grunted from behind them.

Jax looked up, Carlie and Tara turning around at the sound of his voice, the strain it an obvious result of the two folded tables coupled together in his arms.

"These kids are about to raise my blood pressure," Carlie answered.

_"_I'll see you at work, Carlie," Tara commented, turning to walk over to her car.

Tara heard the van shift behind her as Jax climbed out of it. She picked up her pace as she heard his footsteps trailing behind her.

"_I don't fuckin think so_," Jax said, slamming the driver's side door shut as soon as she pulled the handle to open it.

_And here we go. _

"I'm done doing everything according to _your _mood," Jax growled. "I want to have this conversation _now._"

"That's too damn bad, _Prince_. My life doesn't revolve around what _you _want. And unlike you I don't have a safety deposit box full of blood money to keep the lights on in my house. I actually need to keep _my_ part-time job."

_Hey, I tried Piney._

Jax's eyes darted towards the glossy exterior of the Cutlass she was leaning against. Tara swore she saw his foot twitch, almost like he was fighting the urge to kick the car. "Tell that redhead bitch you got sick," he suggested, wringing his shirt with both hands. "….tell her the stress from nearly getting the life choked out of you is too much and you the need the night off."

Momentarily distracted by his reluctance to finish getting dressed, Tara was caught off guard by the brashness of his statement. Her eyes deviated from his naked chest to meet his eyes. Shaking her head at him, she frowned. "_I can't believe you just said that shit to me._"

"It's the truth!" Jax argued. "She shouldn't even be making you work. You should call in sick or something."

That sexy six-pack of his was doing him no favors this time.

"Why the _hell _would I do that? So we can sit around and figure out how I fit into your timetable? I guess _Sarah Saturday's _are off the schedule now so that's where _Sage_ fits in. Let's see….how about have Maize_ Monday's, _Tara _Tuesdays, _Wendy _Wednesdays…_oh! And Stacey _Sundays?! _That's some irony for your ass considering how much you two enjoyed Sunday school together."

Jax folded his arms across his chest, one eyebrow cocked towards his hairline. "You done?"

"Almost!" Tara shrieked. "We still need girls for you to screw on Thursdays and Fridays!"

"_I tell you what_," Jax said moving in close to her, as if the heat of his own glare wasn't apparent enough without the extra proximity. "Since you're my favorite let's make it Tara's _Thursday's, _too. An extra day just for you."

"That just leaves Friday then. What lucky girl gets to have you at the end of every week?"

"Six is about all I can handle, Darlin," Jax bit back. "How about I sit Friday out. _You_ take the extra day. Let's see how many times you can make that douche bag shout _T.G.I.F _before you realize that when it's done right, _you're _the one that's supposed to be doing all the screaming."

Tara was helpless to stop the sound that escaped her when her breath hitched, Oxygen lodged in her throat mid-inhale. Her eyes ballooned in sync with the razor-sharpness of Jax's smile as he nodded his head at her.

"I'm sorry if _David _fucks up the whole alliteration thing you have going on but I have a solution…. Since it's your day we can call it _Floozy_ Fridays."

"Sarah told you."

It wasn't a question. She already knew the answer.

"It doesn't matter who told me because it wasn't _you_," Jax accused. "Or Opie."

"It's not his fault," Tara argued.

"Don't you think you should be more focused on how _you _fucked up instead of him?"

"I didn't mean for you to find out the way you did," Tara replied. "And I'm sorry if it hurts you because—"

"Fuck being hurt. I'm _pissed. _You didn't hurt my feelings, Tara. You betrayed me."

Tara scoffed. "_Grow the hell up,_ Jackson. I don't owe you a goddamn thing. I can be with whoever I want. I don't need your permission or your approval."

"I guess not."

Jax took a step back. Tara thought—silently hoped—it was just so he could pull the shirt in his hands over his head, but once he'd already put it on he still kept walking backwards.

"That's _it_?" Disbelief bled from her tone.

"I don't think your boyfriend would approve of what we were doing earlier," Jax taunted. "Don't worry 'bout it, though. That's the last time you'll have to apologize to him because of _me_."

"I broke up with him…_for_ you,asshole," Tara confessed. "I'm already starting to see how stupid that was."

"_Stupid _was going out with him in the first place," Jax barked.

_The FUCK?_

"Who the hell are you to judge me for dating _anyone? _You sleep with everything in a skirt. I could put a dress on a fuckin broomstick and you'll be ready to take it for a ride!"

"I bet you know the names of every girl I've ever been with."

"One of the many perks of living in a small town," Tara snarked.

"And I never lied about _any _of them," Jax continued. "I didn't hide them from you….You can call me a man whore, an asshole. Whatever the hell you want but you could never say I lied to you about anything…especially who I care about…whether you get along with them or not. All you do is lie to me, Tara. It's always one bullshit story after another. Half-truths and changing the subject when it's time for _you _to be honest. How the hell am I supposed to trust you? How can i even take this seriously?"

There was a pregnant pause where neither teen said anything. They just stared, shuttered blue eyes locked with a gradually remorseful green.

"_I'm sorry_," Tara said finally.

"Save it for Hale," Jax remarked.

Tara sighed. "Jax, I just told you—"

"I SAW YOU!" Jax yelled.

"How? When? Jacks—"

Jax shook his head. "—It doesn't matter. _I don't believe you_. Right now I don't believe anything you say. I don't give a shit if you're pissed about Lauren or about my mother. And right about now I need to be the one to walk away from _you…_because if I actually try to put how I feel about you…what I _think _of you into words you might shed tears I won't be sticking around to wipe away, Tara. You didn't want to be late for work, right? Go ahead. _I'm out of here._"

Jax turned his back, stalking off in the opposite direction.

And Tara was damn proud of herself.

She didn't let a single teardrop fall until after he'd walked away.

* * *

**ALMOST THERE, PEEPS. One more chapter to go before the [... ... ]**

|REVIEW| **_then_ **click [NEXT]


	35. Chapter 35

Jax yanked the door to the dorm room open without bothering to knock. It didn't sound like he had company but if Donna was there she didn't have to worry about Jax sneaking a peek while she rushed to get dressed. Jackson had only one target in mind and his vision was laser-focused.

Pen in hand, Opie looked up from the stack of papers and books scattered across the bed in front of him.

"You writing love letters to Donna?" Jax taunted. "Or did she promise you a cookie if you finished all your homework?"

"I guess sucker-punching me didn't make you feel better," Opie commented dryly. "You're still acting like a little girl."

"You're a lying piece of shit!"

Opie smirked, looking up at him. "Now you sound like my girlfriend. _Are we breaking up, Jax?_"

Jax's eyes narrowed to slits. "We're supposed to be brothers and you got me chasing my damn tail. Telling me to go for her when you knew she was just using me to make that pussy jealous."

"I _am _your brother, jackass. What I'm _not _is Tara's keeper. What she does is her business, not mine. And it's definitely not any of yours. She doesn't have to hide who she's with from you."

"Then why did she?"

Opie tossed the pen in his hand on the page he'd been scribbling against. "Did you not just hear me? _Ask her. _Stop trying to put me in the middle of your bullshit. And while you're at try growing a dick and telling her how you feel."

"I already told—"

"—well then she doesn't believe you! _They never believe us! _Donna? Tara? _Gemma_? How many examples do you need? It's a chick thing, bro. They're all out of their fuckin minds! And they think they know every damn thing…until we prove them wrong. Wake the hell up! You're supposed to the ladies man, not me. You can't really be that fuckin slow."

Jax shrugged at his friend's advice. "It doesn't matter now."

"It doesn't matter because _you're _the pussy. Not Hale. And you're full of shit, too. You never once told her how you feel."

"I showed her—"

"—by trying to take her clothes off? How is that any different than what you do with Wendy or any other chick? Knowing you want to sleep with her isn't enough, stupid. If that was the case, Kyle would be hitting that instead of taunting her until she's getting choked in the middle of a fuckin fundraiser."

"_Fuck you."_

"That's your answer for everything. No thank you. I have Donna for that."

"Not for long," Jax retorted. "She doesn't _believe_ you, remember?"

"At least I'm trying to defuse the crazy. You're running around throwing tantrums like you're the boyfriend she was cheating on instead of the one she's cheating with. It's like you're waiting for Tara to fall into your lap."

Jax cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know she hasn't already?"

Opie shook his head. "For your sake I hope not because if you're acting like this now you probably already fucked her over. I don't see you getting another chance any time soon."

"_Awww. _I keep forgetting you two are _sisters_. You know her so well."

"You know her better than I do," Opie admitted, glaring over at him. "But I know _you. _If you were really done with her you wouldn't be flipping out on me right now so don't do it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Whatever fucked up shit you're thinking of doing to even the score."

Jax rolled his eyes. "What score?"

"_Exactly_. There's no scoreboard because it's not a game. Just talk to her."

"Like she talked to me about Hale?"

Opie picked up the pen, launching it at his best friend. "Do it _before _you make a dick move and you lose her."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, _brother_."

Opie chuckled. "It's like I said. I know _you. _You're gonna do the opposite...or did you already do it?"

Jax scowled. "If you know me so damn well, why even bother telling me what _not _to do?"

"For Tara, retard. You're not the only one that cares about her."

"How _sweet_."

Opie got up off the bed, brushing all his school materials into one pile before grabbing them up, stuffing them into his bag. "You know what? I'm gonna go find my _crazy _girlfriend and listen to her whine instead. At least when she bitches to me I get sex afterwards."

"You're right," Jax confessed to Opie's back as he leaned across the bed to grab his sweatshirt. "…about the dick move, I mean."

Pulling the hoodie down over his head, he turned to face him. "What the hell did you do?"

"It doesn't matter," Jax argued. "Unlike _you _Tara knows she's the one in the wrong. Not _me._"

"Haven't you caught on yet? You can't have your cake and eat it, too. Not with the chicks we're into. You can either be with them….or you can be _right_ and watch them walk away. You can call me pussy-whipped if you want but I know one thing. It's only fun to watch Donna leave when I know she's coming back. And when she does…_that's even more fun_."

"I can see, that," Jax commented, smirking. "I don't call you pussy-whipped for nothing, bro."

"Y-uup," Opie drawled.

It was lightning fast when Opie's fist shot towards Jax's face, catching him square in the jaw.

"_What the fuck, Ope?!"_

"That's for earlier," Opie said, laughing. "Now…I can either go get laid, or sit here and listen to your bullshit. Guess which one I'm choosing? _Move._"

Jax slid aside, holding his right to his hand to his face, giving himself something to do beside retaliate with his own right-hook. "You going to that party at the Hale's later?"

Opie looked back at him, his hand still turning the knob, pulling the door open. "Why? You hoping the football captain's _girlfriend_ will be there?"

Jax made a mad dash towards him, almost running face-first into the door as Opie slipped through it, laughing his ass off. "You better kiss and make up fast," Opie yelled. "Or she'll be back with Hale in a week! Mark _my_ words, Jax."

* * *

**ANDDD..._THAT'S A WRAP! _ **(_NOT_ THE STORY...so many people are getting confused lol. I meant* this ARC is over)

**_WHOOO._**

**I'm finally done with **Charming Fundraiser**-gate.**

**_I really need to see a doctor about this rambling problem I have. I'm afraid it's extended to my fingers on keyboards, touch-screen or otherwise. :-P_**

FYI_: _**The VERY next chapter ****I post WILL BE featuring the Night of the party at the Hale's (#Finally). All my V-lady Crow Charming-verse **vets** know what happens. And when tragedy strikes, that's when our Charming favs show their true colors, how they really feel...they can't help it.**

**As with all fun stories they'll have their curve balls but this final arc that I've donned the **"John Teller"** arc leads into the fun stuff I had already written scenes for ages ago. I'm shocked I was able to bang out this much build up without posting one-shots of those very scenes instead of holding out.  
**

**Don't forget to |REVIEW|**

X**o**X**o**


	36. Chapter 36

**QUICK SHOUT OUT: **_Congrats to** Summerd123 **on starting her own Fanfic. You guys should definitely check it out. I know I will. We can never have too many SOA fic's am I right?_

**_A/N:_** I got a pretty heavy workload and a deadline attached to it so I won't be doing multi-chapter updates consistently for a little while. You guys are **awesome** though! So the continued feedback (reviews) will definitely encourage me to write for this fic whenever I do have some spare time **=)**

Don't forget to **|FOLLOW| **&& if you're really enjoying it maybe even **|FAVORITE| **lol

- **Veritable Old Lady Crow**

**P.S:** _This chapter was definitely **inspired**_** in part by **_all the reviews I saw that said they loved Opie's scenes in the last few chapters. And Piney because let's face it, 'Ope is his father's son. _  


**_P.S.S:_** This is officially phase one in the "After JT" arc. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Solidarity, in a manner of speaking was a good thing.

Tara was all for women sticking together, having each other's backs. There was nothing wrong with being supportive. And she could never say that Carlie Jacobs took pity on her either. It was quite the opposite. She saw Tara as her equal, yet another female scorned by those selfish, ungrateful, unreliable human beings called men.

But her attitude towards the agitated sixteen year old girl from the time their shift started was about ten percent _girl power _and ninety percent "Jacob Hale screwed me over, too. Let's be angry about _that_ together!"

By the time the closing time came along Tara was convinced that she'd rather pick up all of Carlie's slack and every other employees as well than endure hours of the mother-to-be trying to induct her into the _He-man hater's club_.

Seriously, she just wished she would shut the hell up.

Or that her water would break so she could get carted off to the hospital and bitch at all the medical personnel until they sedated her chatty Kathy, I-can-make-anything-all-about-me ass.

Walking through the vacant store parking lot towards her father's Cutlass felt a lot like early release on a lengthy prison sentence.

And normally the ride home from work was peaceful, quiet.

Tonight was different.

At work she didn't have a moment to think between doing her job (unlike some people) and Carlie's ("_some_ people") nonstop complaining but now that she was all alone with her thoughts she couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened.

Most of the day's events made sense.

But there was one part in particular that was bothering her.

Gemma Teller snatching her up by her neck was far from shocking. That woman loved to make an example out of people and Tara had given her the perfect opportunity by opening her big mouth.

Piney Winston loved to take time out of his outlaw schedule to have heart to hearts with people he felt needed guidance—even the short-tempered teenage girl that lived next door. Hell, even his son had a few earnest moments every now and again.

Donna Lewis, was Donna—the same as usual. Quick to make the wrong assumptions and even faster with starting a confrontation.

And all the girls of Charming High did exactly what was expected of them after two years of witnessing it all—they flocked straight to Jackson Teller. He was the shit and they were a swarm of eager flies.

All the girls—including her.

Today was the first time Tara felt like one of them. It was the first time he _made _her feel like one of them.

He'd gotten her right where he wanted her, too.

Pulling out of lot, Tara cringed at the memory—her back against those lockers, her legs around his waist. The Teller Charm won out again. He knew his target well, he'd hit the fuckin bull's-eye the way he always did.

And all it took was telling her he wanted her.

All it took was threatening to walk away from her.

It was the cruelest of combinations—and it worked like a charm.

His charm.

Prince _Charming_.

He could have taken whatever he wanted in that moment. She'd caved, gave in—those mere minutes, that felt like hours when she'd thrown caution to the wind and did what her body told her to do, overriding the logic in her mind telling her that it wouldn't _this _easy.

_I'll just break up with David and be with Jax._

She knew it was a fairytale when the thought first occurred to her. And with trifling, spiteful bitches like Sarah Hale around she knew it wouldn't end in Happily Ever After.

So why the hell did she do it?

And perhaps the better question was, Who the fuck does Jackson Teller think he is?

Yeah, Ok.

She lied.

Well, not really.

He never asked who her boyfriend was.

And she didn't tell him it _wasn't _David.

Did she know it would bother him? Yes.

Was that the reason she kept it from him? Definite yes.

But that didn't give him the right to be pissed at her.

That didn't make it okay to fuck some spoiled brat right in front of her just for spite. That wasn't even eye for an eye. That was getting hit with a water balloon and retaliating with a fuckin bazooka.

_Why the hell do I even feel bad? Why do _I _feel guilty at all?_

She made her choice.

It might have been a little late in the game but she still chose him. What more did he want?

Trying to decipher the motivations of a sixteen year old boy was every bit as futile as trying to sort out her own confliction.

Hormones alone was a bitch to deal with. When you peppered them with feelings it was impossible.

Lowell Junior was a welcome distraction from trying to do the impossible.

Tara eased her foot on the gas, rolling her window down to call out to the boy walking along the side of the dark, empty road. "_Lowell?_"

Lowell slowed his power-walk, peering into the car. "…oh hey, Tara! What's up?"

"I thought you lived near Jax," Tara commented.

Lowell nodded. "I do."

"By car its no problem…but that's a nice hike by foot," Tara noted. "Not that you can't handle yourself or anything…but isn't it a little late for you to be walking that far by yourself?"

"It wasn't really my plan," Lowell answered. His laughter was nervous. "I was at that diner across from Monroe's with my old man…I guess my dad's had a lot on his mind lately."

Tara considered his words. She shook her head as it dawned on her. "Your dad left you?"

"It's cool," Lowell said, shrugging. "Lumpy said I need to do more cardio anyway."

Tara pulled the car to a complete stop. "Get in. I'll give you a ride home."

"Nah, that's okay."

"I wasn't asking."

Lowell shook his head, speed up to a nice jog. "You don't have to—"

"—you remember what I did to you in the gym the other day?"

"You almost gave me a concussion but I didn't suffer memory loss so yeah, I remember," Lowell said, chuckling. "Now that you've mentioned it how are—"

"—I'll do it again."

"Huh?"

"Get in the car…or I kick your ass," Tara threatened. "Your choice."

Lowell laughed. The laughter died, when the sternness in her expression didn't change a tick.

His eyes widened and Tara had to fight against her own laughter bubbling to the surface. "I don't have all night, LJ. Let's go."

"You're seriously threatening me—"

"Get in the car!" she screamed before losing the battle, giggling.

"Yes, m'am," Lowell said, jogging over to the other side.

"Call me m'am again and I really will kick your ass."

"Sorry." Lowell strapped on his seat-belt, before turning to give tara an impish smile. "Thanks, Tara."

"Just putting coin in the karma bank."

_Won't be the first time I filled in for a crappy father either._

"My mom's doing an extra shift at the hospital," Lowell commented after a moment or two had gone by.

Tara nodded, stopping at the red light. "She's a RN right?"

"Yeah," Lowell answered. "umm…I was wondering if…you know what never mind…"

"What is it?"

"It's just Teller-Morrow is closer…and that's probably where my dad went anyway…and I don't have my keys…although I guess I could wait outside…"

Tara sighed. "I'll drop you outside."

_No way in hell I'm driving into that lot._

_Can't count on the town for witnesses there._

"Cool," Lowell replied. "Thanks."

"You thanked me already."

"Right…sorry."

Tara smiled, shaking her head as she turned a corner. "Why are you always so awkward around me? We've know each other since Kindergarten. Besides I'm the spaz that almost beat your head gear off. I should be the awkward one right now."

"I'm awkward with everyone I guess," he answered, shrugging. "…especially _pretty_ girls…" Tara glanced over at him, a little taken aback by the compliment. Whatever he read in her expression had his eyes widening like before. "Oh! I didn't mean—I wasn't flirting with you or anything…I was just—

"—making an observation?" Tara finished for him, thinly-veiled laughter in her voice.

"Yeah," Lowell said. "let's go with that."

Tara snickered. Reaching over she patted his leg, laughing harder when he flinched at the contact. "A lot of people making observations about me today, Lowell. Yours is the first one that didn't make me want to cry…or punch someone in the face so thank _you._"

"You have to turn here. The lots on the next corner," he said, clearing his throat.

"Right." He'd spoken out just before she kept going straight past it.

Turning left, she could see the barb-wired gates of Teller-Morrow in the distance.

Not wanting to push her luck, Tara made a sharp U-turn, pulling the car to a stop on the opposite side of the road. "I'll see you later, Lowell."

"You want me to get out here?"

Tara shrugged, choosing to ignore the obvious _why _laced within his rhetorical question. "It's a lot less of a walk then you were gonna do before I picked you up."

"You scared of the club?"

"No," she answered quickly.

It was Lowell's turn to be amused. He turned, smilling over at her. "They're not as bad as people say they are, Tara. My dad's worked with them for years….and besides," he said, scratching his neck nervously, "You're with Jax right? It's not like Gemma can hate you forever."

_Looks like you're the only one in all of Charming that didn't see what happened at the fundraiser._

_Otherwise you'd know just how wrong both of those statements are._

_Well, the second one definitely._

_Thank God no one else was around to witness the reason that negated the first one._

"It's complicated."

"Your life is always complicated, Tara." She cocked an eyebrow at him and he was backtracking in seconds. "I mean…I'm just saying—"

"—it's fine, _junior_." Tara shook her head, smirking. "Go ahead. I'd like to get at least three hours of sleep before I have to pick my dad up from whatever bar floor he's passed out on."

"Goodnight," he mumbled, pulling the door open.

Tara didn't know why she did it.

"Hey, Lowell." He turned to look back at her. She leaned over brushing her lips across his cheek. "Goodnight."

She could see the blush creeping into his face even in the darkness.

That's when she knew why she did it.

She kind of liked not being the one up against the lockers, so to speak. The other role was more fun.

She was the gamekeeper instead of the wide-eyed doe in _this_ situation.

It felt pretty damn good—especially after the week she'd been having.

"Goodnight," he repeated, followed by a very loud "_Oww!_" when he hit his head on the door, not paying closing enough attention as he shot out of the car.

Lowell fell right back into his earlier jog just as soon as the car door slammed shut.

Tara giggled as she pulled off.

* * *

Tara had just made the right turn, headed back towards her neighborhood when the empty seat next to her began vibrating. She looked over, cringing at the cell phone lighting up in the chair. The caller I.D read "Mommy" and Tara couldn't help when her mind briefly drifted to a latent fantasy of hers where it was her mom calling her phone to see why she wasn't home yet.

Instead of Lowell's mother, calling to check on him in between her shift.

It was Lowell's phone.

He'd left his phone in the car.

_Shit._

Without thinking twice about she was quickly headed back towards the Teller-Morrow lot.

By not thinking of course, that meant it didn't occur to her that she wouldn't suddenly develop telepathic abilities until she was parked in front of the auto-shop. Just outside the gates she was tasked with figuring out how the hell she was supposed to get him his phone without leaving the car—or better yet, entering one of the seven circles of Hell.

_Shit. Shit. SHIT._

_I'll just give it to him tomorrow._

What if his mom called again?

_I'll answer it and tell her what happened._

What if she wanted to know why her son was being picked up on the side of the road?

_Who knows if his family situation is as fucked up as mines is. And if it is why risk causing the poor guy more problems?_

One day Tara would learn that sometimes it was okay to put herself before others.

But not tonight.

Cursing her actions before her foot even touched the asphalt, Tara pulled the keys from the ignition, already circling around the car, sprinting in through the gate before the driver's side door was closed good.

Once she was in she could see him standing just a few feet away from a nearly-closed garage, the light seeping from underneath the rusting metal doors just barely enough for her to see the anxious expression on his face. Lowell Jr's expression wasn't the only thing Tara could make out as she walked closer.

The raised voices coming from inside were even more clear.

_"…..running out of a time. Our window's closing. You have to do it."_

_"Are you out of your _fuckin _mind?! He has a kid! And a wife! I—_

_"You need to be focused on _your _wife and kids, asshole!"_

_"You threatening my _family _now? What the hell is wrong with you, Clay? You're supposed to be his broth—"_

_"—I didn't ask you for a lecture! I'm not _asking_ you anything! I'm _telling _you and if you know what I know you'll do what the fuck I told you to do! _Tonight!_"_

"_Lowell_," Tara whispered frantically. Lowell Jr. jumped at the sound of her voice so close to his ear.

Jerking around his eyes widened for the third time that night. "What are you doing here, Tara?"

"What the hell are y_ou _doing?" Tara countered. "Let's go!"

Tara grabbed his arm, pulling him backwards. After a moment Lowell got the message, turning around he matched her speed as they rushed from the lot back to car, quickly shutting the doors behind them, their breathing heavy.

It was easy to believe when people said that curiosity killed the cat. It was the satisfaction bringing him back part that didn't sound too accurate.

Tara's interest in the argument they'd walked in on was no match for the fear creeping into her bones from the imminent danger she could sense —the consequences for listening in on a conversation that wasn't meant for them.

Clay Morrow—she'd recognize his voice in a line up in seconds.

He was the one that paid her a visit the night after she'd given her statement to the cops about what happened to Sarah. Tara was finally ready to admit that she seriously doubted Jax's father would harm her anyway. His club brother on the other hand.

When he'd threatened her she believed him. She believed him the same way she didn't believe that dead cat was ever satisfied enough to come back to life.

"That was my dad," Lowell stammered. "Clay was threatening my dad and m-m-me….and m-m-my mom…he was threatening us."

"Why?" Tara wondered out loud almost absently. Then she turned to face him. "What else did you hear?"

"He kept saying _this was their last shot_ and _it was for the good of the club," _Lowell echoed. "_It had to be done."_

Tara stomach churned. "It's probably nothing serious," Tara lied, hoping to God that the man upstairs would back up her statement and it make it true.

"It didn't sound like nothing, Tara." Lowell shook his head. "Whatever it is…that's why my dad's been so…so…_God… what the hell does he want him to do?_" Tara rubbed his arm, at a total loss for words that would help or comfort. Lowell flinched, a conclusion swirling in his eyes. "He's probably trying to get him mixed up in drugs again….probably wants him to reach out to his old dealer."

"Your dad used to deal drugs?"

Lowell shook his head. "He was an addict…he got clean a long time ago though…." Lowell eyes bore into Tara's searching for an answer she couldn't give him. "Why would he risk my—what if my dad relapses? What if my mom finds out he's—_oh God—_Tara he's gonna"—Lowell's words were choked off as he inhaled loudly. Every breath was a wheeze more frightening than the one before it as Tara leaned towards his side of the car, rubbing his back, trying to get him to calm down.

"Lowell! _Relax!" _Lowell's hand flew to his throat, the other clutching at his chest. "Lowell! It's gonna be okay….Lowell, look at me!" Tara urged. "LOWELL, LOOK AT ME!" His head finally snapped up towards her. But eye contact did nothing to remedy whatever the hell was wrong with him. Her eyes darted back and forth from the terror in his eyes to the tiny o-shape of his mouth as he drew in sips of air too tiny to satisfy his lungs.

She lightly tapped her palms against his cheeks as her eyes continued their dance across his face.

Still no response.

_I tried every-fuckin-thing that makes sense._

Her eyes finally settled on his lips—and she did the first bizarre thing that popped into her head.

She kissed him.

Her eyes were squeezed tight the second she leaned in as she braced herself for the involuntary head-butt that was sure to follow.

But instead of his forehead colliding with hers, Lowell stiffened, his lips just as still against hers as was the rest of his body.

Tara pulled back slowly.

The shock of what she'd done didn't wear off. But neither did the fear that had him in a frenzy to begin with.

"You good?" Tara asked. Lowell nodded slowly, looking down toward her lap. "look…we don't know the whole story…and I Know it sounded bad…I'm not trying to deny that but there's nothing we can do about it…and…it's like you said…the club's not as bad as everyone says, right?"

"That was before—"

"—I believe you," Tara added quickly. "You know why? _John Teller…_I don't know about the rest of them but JT's a good man and so is Piney." Lowell looked up at her and she offered him a small smile. "He's _their f_riend. Jax told me a long time ago that JT's the one that hired him."

Lowell nodded, wiping at his eye. "JT's the only one that would give my dad a shot after he got clean the second time around."

"You and your dad and your mom…you're like family to him," Tara said. She reached her hand up to lightly lift his chin. "Trust me, LJ….if there's one thing I know for sure about John Teller….he _always _looks out for his family no matter what." Lowell nodded. "It's gonna be okay."

"Thanks."

Tara's smiled widened then. "You've been thanking me all night," she said. "How about I give you a real reason to be thankful? There's a party at the Hale's. We should crash it…Get your mind off whatever's going on with your dad."

Lowell was scratching his neck again. "I wasn't invited."

Tara giggled. "That's why it's called party-_crashing_."

"I don't know…"

"Check this out," Tara said. "The party is supposed to be some welcome back shit for Sarah Hale...I _can't stand_ that bitch. I stole the guy she likes to fuck so she can't stand me either. I broke _David _Hale's heart by choosing to be with the guy I stole from his sister. And I don't even have to tell you about the mutual hatred between me and that pillsbury dough boy _Jacob _Hale. Moral of the story? I'm pretty sure I'm not invited either. But it's an unsupervised High school party at a rich kids house so there's gonna be plenty of free booze to help me along with not giving a shit if my presence bothers any of them. You wanna tag along?"

"Sounds like a lot of drama," Lowell answered.

Tara shook her head. "No drama. Just fun And if that doesn't work out I got one hell of a right hook...but you know that already, _don't you?_"

* * *

"Two minutes," Tara promised, holding up two fingers to Lowell as she reached for the handle, pushing her car door open.

She hustled towards her yard, briskly jogging up her walkway to head inside.

"_Where's the fire, Knowles?_"

Tara paused, fixing her mouth into a scowl before turning towards him. "Oh you can see me now? I must have been wearing my invisibility cloak back at the high school."

"Can _you _see who _you're_ talking to?" Opie challenged. "I'm Opie Winston…the other outlaw son, not Jax. You sure you want me to tell you all the ways what happened with Gemma was _your _fault?"

Tara crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter what I said. That doesn't give her the right—,"

"_One…_I'm not excusing _shit_…Gemma snapped and believe me Tara that wasn't fun to watch..._Two..._you _and _Donna love to attack people when you're pissed off so you can go ahead and hop off that horse….it's way tall for you and my _fun-sized _girlfriend. _Three_….I wasn't just _standing there_ doing nothing. I had _fun-size _wrapped in my arms because her crazy ass was already running towards y'all before I could blink to make sure I wasn't seeing things!"

"Seriously?" Tara smirked, picturing Donna trying to break up any fight that wasn't between two ants. "What did she think—"

Opie shook his head. "—I'm not done..._four..._I can't believe you actually think I would let anybody hurt you…especially after you saw what I did to that asshole Council—"

"—I didn't ask you to do that," tara cut him off, her voice smaller and not nearly as haughty as it was at the start.

"You didn't have to! That's the point!"

"Alright, alright…I'm sorry, Opie," Tara groaned. "I just _knew _you were gonna be on my ass about what happened with Jax and I'm really not in the mood for an _'I told you so'_ so I struck first."

"I _did_ warn—"

"_See!_ I don't want to hear that _shit_!" Tara snapped. "Instead of making me feel bad about trying to avoid him throwing a tantrum over nothing why don't you go tell him off for fuckin some skank in the van I have to pack and unload at my job!"

"Him and Sarah—?"

"_No! _And do you actually think it makes a difference _who_ it was?" Tara screeched. "He did it to hurt me...and if you heard all the shit he said to me you wouldn't be so damn smug…or maybe you would be…they say birds of a feather flock together. Maybe there's a reason for all of Donna's antics..."

Opie blew out a heavy breath. "You want to know what I _think_?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "Do I _ever _want to know what you think?"

"How about what I _don't _think?" he countered.

"Sure," Tara bit back sarcastically. "That'll be a nice change from the usual."

"I don't think you ever liked David in the first place."

_My eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of my head if I keep rolling them._

Tara narrowed her eyes, hand on her hip. "Why would I go out with him if I didn't like him?"

"Jax sleeps around because he's a slut... _and_ he's a guy…in case you didn't notice sluts like having sex, Tara. So do guys. Guys like sex a lot even when they're not _man-whore's_," Opie said, using air quotes for the adjective she often ascribed to the slut in question. "I'm a guy, Tara. So I would know."

"What the _hell_ does that have to do with David?"

"The only reason you went out with him was to piss Jax off," Opie explained. "Jax screwing everything that walks isn't about you. But, Davey boy? That was all about _him."_

Tara scoffed, green eyes rolling towards the sky yet again. "That's a nice theory you got there, Detective Winston…too bad it doesn't make any damn sense. I never _once _threw David in Jax's face. That stupid bitch Sarah did! If it wasn't for her he'd never even know we were together because I broke up with him today…_dumb ass_."

"_After."_

_HUH?_

Tara's eyebrows bunched together. "What?"

"You hid it from him _after_ you finally stopped pretending you hated him."

_Okay, fine. I blamed him for JT. _

_How many times do I have to apologize for the same shit?_

"And what about before our little _heart to heart_?"

Opie's eyebrows shot towards his scalp. "Hale was hiding you from his parent's wasn't he?"

_Ughh. So fuckin what?_

"You're trying to say I've been using David this whole time?"

_That's bullshit…_

"I'm not _trying _to say it," Opie corrected. "I _am_ saying it. _DUH."_

"You're making me sound like Sarah."

Opie shrugged. "She was _your _best friend wasn't she? _Birds of a feather..._"

Tara punched him in his chest.

Opie chuckled, not even bothering to rub the spot her fist had landed on. "What were you saying about _Gemma_ being out of line?"

"Fuck you."

"Why does everybody want to fuck me today?"

"_Ewww."_

Opie laughed harder. "_Relax. _You're not as bad as Sarah…_or_ Jax. Sarah fucked with my head just to get under his skin. Then she got her brother's ass kicked by starting trouble when _she _got burned. And today Jax fucked some girl whose name he won't even remember tomorrow right in front of you because he's just as spiteful as the girl that won't stop chasing him. What _you_ did was fucked up but compared to those two idiots you're like…heartbreaker-_lite _or some shit."

"Thanks, Yogi Jr. I feel so much better."

"_You used him_," Opie repeated. "The only difference is you didn't have the heart to follow thru… I don't know if it was more because you were scared Jax would walk away from you like you did to him—_for no goddamn reason_"—Opie paused to answer her scowl with a shit-eating grin—"…. or if you finally realized you were gonna really hurt both of them and you didn't want to. Either way you tapped out. You wanted the situation to fix itself. _And it didn't. _ Jax pulled a dick move today….but this entire situation is _your _fault.._._just like with Gemma."

"I didn't know David was in love with me!" Tara argued, shaking her head. "If I'd known I would have never—"

"—hooked up with him because the guy you _really_ want can't stand his ass?"

_UGHHHHH._

"You and Donna are meant for each other," Tara cracked. "You're both annoying as hell. And you think you know every damn thing."

"Donna's not even _reactive_," Opie said, shaking his head. "That girl is _over-_reactive. I have no _idea_ what the hell her problem is….but _you_…you're in the middle somewhere…crazy as hell just like every other chick I know…but every once in a while you're lucid."

"Oh yeah?" Tara challenged. "Then where the hell is my moment of clarity?"

Opie shrugged. "Let's take what happened today out of the equation….name _one_ thing Jax has ever done to hurt you? _Jax. _Not his old man. Not his mother. Not any of the girls he's fucked. Name one time _he_ has ever tried to hurt _you_?"

Tara's mind went blank.

_"Uh…Tara? Did you change your mind about the party?_"

Lowell's voice rang out minutes later.

His question came after minutes of the two of them standing there, staring each other down.

Tara's face alternated between angry and dumbfounded while Opie's face never changed.

He was smug as ever.

And he was happy to rub it in.

"_Clarity," _Opie whispered. He squeezed her shoulder lightly before brushing past her, continuing the path towards his father's truck.

_I hate you._

"Even if I a_m_ in the wrong that doesn't mean I'm gonna put up with his shit!" Tara responded to his retreating back. "I'm not gonna keep apologizing to him either!"

"_You're welcome_!" Opie yelled, getting in the truck, slamming the door shut.

_I really do hate you._

"Tara?"

Tara's eyes snapped over to the awkward young man, wringing his hands together. "No. We're still going," she answered. _Opie's right again. I'm gonna need my good friend Tequila to wash that shit down. _"Just let me run inside and get my jacket."

"Okay...cool."

* * *

Tara didn't know how she was going to survive the party without bleeding from her ears. She questioned whether Lowell could hear her talk over the music blasting.

And they were still outside the house.

Turns out, by some miracle she could. She found out when Lowell turned towards her, scratching absently at that one spot on his neck.

"So I've been thinking…if we both get drunk whose gonna drive us home?"

Tara smiled. "You my friend….are the responsible boy parent's dream their daughters will bring home…_good point. _I tell you what…_you _drink and I'll dance. If I still feel as shitty as I did when I came I'll crack open one of my old man's bottles before I go to bed. Deal?"

"ummm…"

"Have you ever even had a drink before?"

"I had a sip of a beer once."

Tara giggled. "This is gonna be fun...I've always wanted to corrupt someone." Tara grabbed a hold of his hand, pulling him towards the house. "Let's get you your first shot….who knows…the Tequila might make you bold enough to feel me up when we're dancing."

Tara wondered if he could hear her laughter over the increasing volume of the music when Lowell tripped over his feet, falling into the front door.

Music blared from the speakers mounted up on the walls in every corner of the crowded high-ceiling room. She weaved her way through the pack of sweaty, overheated bodies—a blend of her fellow Charming High classmates and a crowd of what were unmistakably a pack of Jacob Jr's college buddies and other local teens.

She craned her neck, searching for the closest bar area when a cluster of familiar faces caught her eye.

Sitting in the corner on one of four scotch-guarded lounge chairs—that were clearly moved aside so the guest could dance—was Jax and three of the many members of his fan club.

Ima, Maize and the dark-haired girl whose name she refused to learn were dancing around him like his own personal go-go girls. All that was missing were the poles or a table to stand up on top of.

Tara turned towards the tapping on her shoulder. As soon as she looked at him, Lowell pointed. She followed his finger to the spot she was looking for.

Forcing herself not look towards the corner—his corner, again she lead the way towards the liquor cabinet closest to her, pulling a bottle of Tequila from the middle shelf. Forgoing the pact she'd made with Lowell out on the steps, she poured them both a shot into two glasses she'd pulled from the counter in between the two cabinets.

She knocked it back without hesitation. Lowell was hesitant, bringing the tiny cup to his lips.

Tara shook her head. "You gotta"—she cut her instructions short as it dawned on her that he couldn't hear her. She poured another shot in her glass, held it up in front of Lowell, her eyebrows raised. She threw her head back just a little slower than before, pouring the scorching liquid down on her throat. Looking over at him she nodded in encouragement.

Lowell shrugged his shoulders the way only he could and did exactly as she'd done.

_I might have to keep him around just for grins and giggles, _Tara thought as she laughed, patting his back when he choked a little.

She poured him another one.

He repeated the act.

Tara leaned over the bar top, reaching for a beer from the ice bucket on the floor behind it.

She didn't miss the way Lowell eyes drifted towards her ass in the snug-fitti jean skirt she'd decided to change into when she went to grab her jacket.

He looked seconds away from accidentally swallowing his tongue—and it excited her.

The only problem was…he wasn't the real source of the excitement. It was the fantasy running through her head. The one where Jax couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

She put off looking over where he was by pouring herself another shot. Lowell look a little less alarmed than he would have without the liquor heating him up—but he still looked alarmed nevertheless.

Tara winked at him before throwing back another shot.

_Relax, champ. It's only three shots._

She popped the cap off the beer, handing it over to him. When he sipped from it, she shook her head, throwing her head back again an imaginary beer hovering over her mouth. Lowell got the picture, quickly guzzling it down—well most of it anyway. Some made its way to his T-shirt.

Satisfied she'd loosened him up enough, she grabbed both his hands.

"Let's dance."

In case he couldn't read her lips, she pulled him towards the floor, swaying to the music that was blasting above them, making the floor thump beneath their feet.

She thought he'd need a little push.

But all she had to do was turn around, brushing back against him once and his hands flew to her waist so fast it actually shocked her.

It was a pleasant surprise.

Tara responded in kind. Pretty soon they were oblivious to the crowd going wild as they somehow managed to make it towards the center of the semicircle forming around them.

No other explanation made sense.

Lowell Harland Junior had obviously watched Dirty dancing a couple hundred times more than Tara—with a heavy emphasis on the dirty part. With every move he made against her Tara grew bolder until she'd completely forgotten the reason she'd wanted to dance with him in the first place.

What was that reason?

Tara hips swerved to Lowell, not the music. She couldn't help thinking she was possessed as she couldn't believe the way her own hands were sliding up and down her body, caressing all the places every straight guy in the room yearned to touch.

Tara didn't know it yet, but that list included Jackson Teller.

Satisfied she'd given enough of a taste of what her backside felt like she shifted against him again, pulling him closer as he spun her around, her back facing towards the gap where the semicircle surrounding them ended.

She didn't give a shit where Sarah was, if she wanted her there.

And she couldn't care less if David was somewhere watching her—unless he was enjoying the show. That would make her very happy.

_What the hell e_lse_ was in those shots I did?_

Swiping the hair out her face, a few strands still sticking to her forehead—Tara snaked an arm around Lowell's neck, lightly nudging his head down towards her.

Following her lead, he leaned into her, his mouth so close to joining with hers. But instead of locking lips he tilted his head to the side. She thought he chickened out until she felt his lips lightly brush her neck.

_It's liquid._

_It's courage._

_It's liquid courage!_

There was no way he couldn't hear her giggled this time—it was right in his ear.

That was why she assumed he'd misread the meaning behind it when he pulled away from her.

She was wrong.

When she peered up at him in question, the first thing she noticed was the sudden absence of glazed over, turned on look in his dark eyes. The second thing he noticed was the terror that took its place.

Lowell went from giving her his own inexperienced _Do-me-baby _look to his eyes ballooning like someone was being stabbed to death behind her.

He looked petrified.

Tara turn to look glance over her shoulder.

And her gaze was met with the glare of Jackson Teller.

Well, almost.

Not quite.

He wasn't glaring at _her._

He was shooting daggers at Lowell.

_So I guess someone _is _getting stabbed._

You _are._

Instead of concern for her friend or shame for doing just what Opie had accused her of doing with David all Jax's reaction did was incite another case of the giggles.

It was Jax's glare _and_ the astonished expression on the faces of all the girls dancing for him, dancing _on _him—all the girls he was ignoring to drink in her every move.

With a high like this, why did anyone do drugs?

Lowell missed the humor in the situation, clamming up the more she moved against him trying to get him back into the groove they were in before.

She finally got him to move again but all the liquid courage was gone. He barely brushed against her.

He was killing her buzz.

No, _Jax _was.

Before the frown she shot towards Lowell could settle in her face good someone grabbed her from behind. Tara jumped, quickly turning around.

He was twice her height and _at least_ two times her size.

And he did _not _have permission to grab her ass.

She couldn't make out what he was saying but it didn't matter.

She shook her head once, backing away when he reached for her waist. She shook her head again when he ignored her decline closing the gap between them again.

Reaching for her the third time was the final straw.

Tara was seeing red when she swung her fist towards his face, following her punch up with a hard knee to the groin. He wasn't keeled over more than a few seconds before he stood up rod-straight—all six feet, three inches of him.

He was pissed, the anger and frustration roiling off him, snuffing out whatever righteous fight she had in her as fear took its place. The onslaught of the music against her eardrums couldn't quite match the sound of her heartbeat speeding up, thrumming a bruise against her rib cage.

His expression was a lot like Gemma's right before she started choking her. Tara's flinch was at the ready for the strike that was sure to come.

But then the Frat boy did something Gemma Teller would never care enough to do. He took in his surroundings. His eyes darted left to right at the crowd of witnesses—people who may or may not take issue with him hitting her back.

Flaring his nostrils, Frat boy bumped shoulders with Lowell as he brushed past him. Tara watched as he yanked a beer from the bucket behind the bar.

Avoiding the crowd staring at the _second_ scene she'd caused that Saturday she looked over at Jax.

He was on his feet, his fists clenched at his sides, shoulders rising and falling fast. But once again he wasn't do what she'd wanted him to do all along—he wasn't looking at _her. _

He was glaring at the asshole she'd just decked in the face. The one that looked like he wouldn't have hesitated to take a swing at her or worse if it had been just the two of them in an alleyway somewhere.

Jax had got up to protect her.

She knew it without ever seeing him move, without knowing how much he'd actually seen in between lap dances from his fan club.

That was why she stepped towards him, ready to make the first move in spite of all of three of them.

Then Maize pushed him back onto the couch, sitting on his leg. Ima sat on his other leg. Stacey assumed the position in the wide gap between his thighs.

She was okay.

He knew she was okay.

And it was back to being the fundraiser all over again, only this time Jax was intentionally ignoring her when he wrapped his arms around the two girls in his lap, running his hands up and down their thighs. The infamous Teller smile was a thousand megawatts as if he'd never been angry at all—and none of the brightness was for her.

Looking away, she searched the crowd for Lowell when she didn't find him immediately next to her. Her eyes found him leaning against the wall several feet away, next to some girl she recognized from her art class last year. She didn't need an up close look to know he was flirting with her. She looked every bit as tipsy as he was, and when she put her arm on his shoulder Tara cracked a wry smile, shaking her head.

_Someone's not waking up a virgin tomorrow._

She couldn't help but feel bitter as she swerved her way through the crowd towards the bathroom down the familiar hallway.

Fuck a boyfriend.

All she wanted right now was someone to take the edge off all the sexual frustration that had been building up inside her ever since she'd tried to tease Jax and ended up getting herself all hot and bothered…taunting him about a meeting in the janitor's closet.

Ever since Jax eased his hands up the legs of her shorts in the cafeteria during detention.

Ever since she felt him brush against her stomach in Opie's bedroom.

Ever since he'd taunted her to _kiss it better _in the alley behind Lumpy's gym.

Or when he leaned in towards her right there in the backseat of Sarah's car, his breath tickling her ear as his palm pressed against her thigh, breaking the promise she never quite got him to make about keeping his hands where she could see them.

Ever since he pulled her earlobe between his teeth that night on Opie's bed.

Ever since she lost her damn mind, willing him with it to show her all the things she was missing out on, all the things that kept the girls running back to him right there in the middle of the girl's locker room.

Jax had stirred something in her.

It was unfortunate for him that he couldn't stop being righteous and angry long enough to see that he could have anything he wanted from her.

But did Tara share his misfortune? Moments like these, it damn sure felt like it.

But what would happened if he finally got what he wanted? Would he do what David said? Walk away? Could she shake off the pain? Would the moments of pleasure that came before it be enough to stop the world of hurt that followed from crushing her?

Tara pushed the bathroom door open absently, rolling her eyes in annoyance at the couple having sex on top of the sink.

Sarah took the time to toss her a wink, and a knowing smile before the next stroke Kyle rocked into her had her eyes fluttering closed.

Shaking her head, Tara made note of the mismatch of the honey-blonde's footwear as she moved to slam the door shut. On one foot was the kind of heels she'd expect from her former friend. On the other—a cast that obviously did nothing to stop her fun times with the SOA's latest prospect.

She didn't even look angry that the girl who was seconds away from kicking her ass earlier was in her house.

_I hope you break the other foot, bitch, _Tara thought as she stormed off, heading off for the staircase.

Tara Knowles was the friskiest cat around and she needed some goddamn satisfaction. Without it, the curiosity was sure to be the thing that killed her.

* * *

The steady bump of the music blasting from the speakers down below tickled the soles of her feet as she walked through the dark hallway, nostalgia hitting her hard when she stopped in front Sarah's bedroom door.

She'd spent the better part of her childhood in there. Slumber parties and plotting on ways to torture Jacob Jr. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when she turned the knob, discovering that it was locked.

_What you hiding now, 'Rah? _Tara wondered as she continued down the hall. She'd found the door she was looking for—the one attached to the second floor hallway bathroom, when something caught her eye. Directly across from the bathroom, his bedroom was cracked open slightly. Without thinking she diverged from her original destination, slipping into David's room for the first time ever.

His room was wall to wall awards, certificates, trophies and accolades. The sheets on his bed looked freshly made, his carpet brand new. Between that and the stellar organization of his computer desk and bookshelf his bedroom looked like something out of the athlete's edition of architectural digest.

_Wow. _

She headed towards his bathroom, making sure to check that both doors were locked, the one on David's end and the one to the adjoining bedroom—Jacob Jr's bedroom.

When she came out he was waiting for her—just outside the bathroom door.

She jumped at the sight of him, and he took her moment of surprise as an opportunity to pull the door she'd come in from shut—the same as the bedroom door she didn't remember closing behind her.

"That wasn't very nice what you did," Frat boy said, sneering down at her.

Tara backed away from him slowly—he was stray pitbull and she was terrified that running fast would only make it worse.

Her fingers tingled, begging to be balled up into fist, her legs quivered, anxious to be slid into position—a fighter's stance.

He laughed at the mix of emotions crossing her face. "Relax, doll…I'm not gonna hurt you," he slurred, moving closer to her, his pace increasing as she continued backing away. "But you hurt me...you hurt my feelings…don't you think you should make it up to me?"

_I should have never set foot in this house again._

The adrenaline was still there and she was no damsel in distress—she'd fight no matter what.

But she couldn't shake the paralyzing fear seeping into her marrow as two very obvious problems seized every ounce of confidence she had that she would get out of this okay.

One—drunk or sober, this guy wasn't Rick Vidal….he was bigger…soo much stronger.

Two—the music was too loud for anyone to hear if she screamed….when she screamed.

Tara refused to take her eyes off of him for a second.

That decision cost her greatly as she unconsciously backed herself into a corner. She realized too late that she had no way of getting past him.

The towering young man chuckled as her eyes widened when she caught on to what she'd done. Her back hit the wall at the same time the bedroom door he'd closed behind him flew open.

"There's two other bedrooms on this floor," Frat boy grumbled, reaching for Tara, completely oblivious that he now had a witness to his unwelcome advances. "This one's taken."

Tara craned her neck, looking over the sloshed frat boy's shoulders, her eyes meeting a familiar glare at the same time an equally recognizable voice rang out.

"_Get the _fuck_ away from her." _

Tara never thought she'd ever be so excited to hear Jackson's angry voice.

* * *

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	37. EXTRA-SODE: 1

_ **  
**_**"You remember when you called Jacob Hale out for mispronouncing the word voluptuous?"**

**- Jackson Teller**

* * *

_"You're looking very voluptuous today, Nicky!" Jake jumped up and yelled at the leggy blonde jogging past the row of benches where they all sat._

_The Charming Junior High school Varsity Soccer captain neither slowed her pace nor glanced in his direction at all. But his outburst was followed by a chorus of laughter behind him._

_"It's not Velp-chew-us," Tara corrected, rolling her eyes. "It's vull-up-chew-us."_

_Sarah Hale's eyes were rolling next. "Jake can't even _spell _voluptuous, Tara. Why the heck would you expect him to know how to _pronounce_ it?" she teased. _

_"Shut up Sarah," Jake snapped, scowling._

_His younger sister shrugged her shoulders, unfazed by his death-glare. "I'm going to get an ice cream from the truck…you want one, _Jax_?"_

_Jackson nodded. Lifting up off the bench, he pulled a few bills from his back jean pocket to hand them over to her, "thanks... Darlin." _

_Jax couldn't keep the grin off his face when Sarah fluttered her eyelashes at him the way all the women did whenever he heard his father or one of his club brothers call them _Darlin'.

_Sarah pushed his hand and the money in it away. "It's okay, I got it."_

_"You got Tara's, too?" Jax looked from Sarah over to the brunette tucking her long hair behind her ear. "Vanilla or chocolate?"_

_Tara smiled, twirling her finger in the air in front of her._

_"Right." Jax smirked, looking back over at Sarah. "I want mines to be the swirl flavor, too."_

_"She can't carry _three_ ice cream cones, Jackson," Tara scolded. _

_"Oh."_

_"I'll go with her," Opie volunteered, getting up from the space on the bench next to his best friend._

_"What about you?" Tara wondered._

_"I'm getting a Bomb-pop," Opie answered, patting his pants leg. "I'll just put it in my pocket."_

_"What about me?" Jake interjected._

_"Spell voluptuous and I'll get you an icee too," Sarah taunted, already walking away, arm in arm with Opie._

_Jax and Tara laughed together._

_Jake turned his glare from his sister's back to Tara. "What are you laughing at Tara? The only reason everyone's always offering to buy you stuff is because your daddy spends all his money on alcohol!"_

_"Shut up, Jake," Jax said. If the warning wasn't evident in his tone his expression made it clear._

_But Jake was too busy sneering at the dark-haired girl rocking back on one leg, her hand sliding up to meet her hip. "Maybe if your dad uses his money to buy you your own gym you won't be so fat, _Porky_!"_

_Jax chuckled, raising his hand in the air. Tara slapped her palm against his without turning her taunting glare away from Jake._

_Jacob's eyes narrowed to slits. "That's why you're an orphan….your mom died to get away from you."_

_Jacob Hale Jr. was too busy scowling at the wide-eyed girl in front of him to back away in time. He briefly glanced over at Jax, doing a double-take at his outraged expression just before the kick to his groin had his eyes watering._

_"Unnnhhhhh," Jacob moaned. "What the hell, Jackson?"_

_"Go ahead," Jackson dared. "Stand up straight so I can do it again."_

_"Only girls are supposed kick boys in the balls, dude!" Jacob Jr. complained, keeled over towards the ground, one hand holding his stomach, the other on his crotch._

_"Good point," Jax answered. Jacob Jr. made the second mistake of the day by looking up in question. His curiosity was met with Jax's closed fist._

My old man taught me that, Jerk.

_Jacob crashed those last few inches to the ground._

_Satisfied that he'd gotten his point across Jax looked up to smile at Tara. _

_Only she wasn't there._

_He scanned the park._

_She was already several feet away, rushing towards the sidewalk leading back towards her house._

_How the hell did that girl move so damn fast?_

_"Tara wait!" Jax ran after her, grabbing her shoulder as he finally caught up to her._

_"I'm fine, Jax!" she shrieked, shrugging his hand off. "It's not like it's the first time he talked smack about my mom. Jake's just full of cancer jokes.'_

_"If I was there the _first_ time there wouldn't have been a repeat," Jax declared. "Come on…let's go back. I'll make _him _leave."_

_Tara shook her head. "I want to go home."_

_"Fine." Jax tossed an arm over her shoulder, pulling her with him onto the sidewalk. _

_When they reached the corner of the block, Tara pulled away slightly, peering up at him. "We forgot about the ice cream!"_

_Jax shrugged. "She can give it to _Porky," _he responded, winking at her._

_Tara laughed and her eyes were doing that sparkling thing in the sunlight that always stunned him, leaving him tongue-tied._

_"Jake's gonna _love _that," Tara said. She came to a stop, slanting her head at him, her eyes narrowing. "But what about your sweet tooth?"_

_"I can think of something sweeter than ice cream," Jax blurted out, staring at her mouth._

_He quickly looked across the street towards the next block, color flooding his cheeks as he realized he'd accidentally said what he was thinking out loud._

_Tara Knowles was notorious for losing her temper whenever she felt a boy was being fresh with her. Ricky Rosen—who had to sit his first three junior league soccer games out while his knee healed, was proof of that._

_No pulling the _Darlin _trick on her. _

_There was no charming that girl at all._

_And if you tried Tara Knowles was as _un-charming _as a girl could be._

_When Jax was finally brave enough to glance over at her, he fully expected her signature death glare._

_But instead of a scowl her lashes were doing that fluttering thing—only it didn't seem forced, or practice….or intentional at all._

_The look in her eyes was magnetic, pulling him in towards her. _

_His hands moved of their own volition. One slid around to the back of her head, threading into her hair. __The other slowly, timidly curved around her waist, pulling her into him. He slanted his head, brushing his lips against hers._

_He moved to pull back when her hand flew up to face, caressing his cheek. "What was that for?" _

ummm...

_"Sweet tooth?"_

_Tara smiled at his lame joke and he took that as a good sign. _

_Anything that didn't include her eyes narrowing to slits was a good sign._

_"I don't know what to say to that," Tara replied, blushing._

_Jax decided to push his luck. "How about...we don't say anything. Just..." _

_He didn't need to finish. She was already leaning into him again._

_"_God, Jax! _Do you have to be _every_ girl's first kiss?"_

_Tara's head snapped towards Sarah, a look of horror on her face. When her eyes landed on Jax again, the genuine surprise—and a little something else—in his expression left Tara more confused than embarrassed._

_"That was your first kiss?" _

_Jax's question was met with silence as Tara looked down at his feet._

_"Who the hell else would she kiss? Opie?"_

_Tara glanced up, her nose wrinkling the same way Opie's was. She turned to see if Jax was amused like her best friend but he was glaring at Sarah. It looked a lot like yet another Hale was about to incur his wrath._

_And once again Sarah shrugged, giggling. "I can't believe you really believed me when I said her first kiss was with Davey! I was _kidding _Jax. I had no idea you were that easy to fool!"_

_Tara rolled her eyes at her storytelling friend. "Why would I kiss David? I don't like him..and he runs out of the room every time I said hi to him."_

_"So you like _Jax_?" Sarah challenged._

_"NO!" Tara pointed at the handsome blonde boy standing next to her. "_He_ kissed _me!"

"You _were about to kiss _him, Lady Tee. We saw. Right, Opie?"

"_He kissed me _first!_"_

_"Liar! That's not what I saw!"_

_"I saw it," Opie mumbled, shaking his head with neither girl paid him any attention._

_"Stop minding my business, 'Rah!"_

_"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Tee. Lots of girls never..."_

_The girls continued their back and forth argument, completely oblivious to two teenage boys standing beside them. Opie shook his head, licking the drops of icee sliding down towards his hand._

_Jackson Teller wasn't paying attention to anyone or anything in front of him._

_He'd thought getting a girl to bat her eyelashes at him was exciting. _

_But now he had something even better than knowing how to be charming to grin about._

_He was Tara Knowle's first kiss._

_And he didn't know why that made him so happy._

_But it did._

_And he was right about the kiss._

_It was the sweetest._

_There was a single ice cream flavor invented that could compare._

* * *

**I'm still not done writing/editing Chapter |37|...SORRY **if that's what you thought this was lol.

The thing is, this was about to get cut and deleted then i decided to make it:

**A ONE-SHOT/FLASHBACK. LET'S CALL IT An EXTRA-SODE lol. **

**Would you guys like me to do more of these?****Would you rather it be posted it separately as one-shots for you to favorite and go back to or do you mind if I post it in between chapters? (I promise from now on I'd post them after or before new chapters so you won't get confused.)**

**If the answer the answer is Yes, to Q#1 you can pick stories from the past that were "mentioned" in chapters (told) but not shown…like this one. **

**I mentioned this particular event from Jax's POV in CH 2 & he and Tara even reminisced on it in detention (CH4). Originally |CH 37| was supposed to start with Jax dreaming about the first time he kissed Tara but it didn't fit but i didn't want to delete it. I decided I'd do a quick and sweet one-shot of it instead…and then the "ramble monsters" took over.**

**Are you itching for a one-shot of that day in Sunday school way back when? Want to see the exact moment Sarah crushed Opie's heart? These are just examples so you get what I mean.**

**You can post it in the review section here or message me and I'll try to put my creativity to work on your request. (NO CLOWNS please. Nothing with clowns. They're creepy as hell.) And FYI it can't be anything present day because you don't know what I already have planned and I won't be telling…I'll show ya ;-)**

P.S. I know I'm killing some of you with the no sexy-times lol so even though that continuing scene from where CH36 left off was pretty tame I decided to dirty it up some for you guys! AHA. I'm gonna _**try**_ to finish CH37 before the week is out. But since this was already written i thought I'd just post it.


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